


The Survivors

by Deirana



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand, Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Angst, Death, Duro is alive, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Love, Lucretias Baby is alive, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pietros is alive, Possible Character Death, Violence, alternative universe, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 113,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deirana/pseuds/Deirana
Summary: The story is AU. Pietros and Duro survive the end of the first season here, but they are in a difficult situation. Will they flee from Roman captivity and find their way back to their friends and loved ones who have no idea of their fate and think they are dead? Will Lucretia's fate be different from the series? What role will some own charas play? The lives of some others are also a bit different. Warning, the story will be long.
Relationships: Agron/Nasir, Barca/Pietros, Crixus/Naevia, Duro & Pietros, Mira/Spartacus, Quintus Lentulus Batiatus/Lucretia
Comments: 134
Kudos: 36





	1. Kapitel 1

**The Spartacus series doesn't belong to me. It is owned by Starz Entertainment and Steven DeKnight. I don't earn any money with this story. Almost all of the people who happen do not belong to me either. There are some characters I have created, but they run through a world that does not belong to me.**  
**The Story is strong AU.**  
This story is very strong AU. Although the plot is about the same as it is in the series, there are some big changes, especially with the charas I borrow here. Things are going to happen that didn't happen in the series. There are a few OC's of its own. Two of them become more or less important. Pietros survives here. In addition, agron's little brother Duro and possibly other people who died during the series. I'm also nicer to Lucretia. 

**The story begins in the first season, shortly after Barca's death. She will soon be in Season 2.**

  
**Note 1**  
**Everyone who knows the series knows that it is very hard, bloody and violent, sometimes sexual. I will insert appropriate warnings at the beginning of a chapter.**  
  
**Note 2**  
**I publish the story simultaneously in FanFiktion.de in German. My name there is Deira.**  
**There is a reference to this publication in English.**  
**In German, the series is called "Die Ueberlebenden".**  
  
**Note 3**  
**English is not my mother tongue. So far I have only written stories in German. This is my first attempt to write a story in English. I hope it hasn't gotten too bad.**

**Warning**  
Sexual assault and attempted rape, even if they are not yet complete.  
This is a difficult issue for many people and many do not want to read such a thing. I understand that and I would like to warn you.

Chapter 1

"Letitia?" he asked. "I should contact you."

The woman nodded. "Yes, you should stay with me in the kitchen and help me and the girls with the heavy equipment. You can start with the soup pot soon. The soup is intended for the domestic slaves. The food for Dominus and Domina and their guests has already been served."

Letitia eventually turned to him and held the large spoon in his hand. "They say that you cause difficulties and disputes among gladiators in Ludus. That's why Domina Lucretia decided that you should now work in the kitchen."

She sighed. "I hope you won't cause any inconsistencies here."

Pietros looked to the ground. He knew he was being held responsible for the gladiatorial disputes. In particular, he was charged with the brawl between Spartacus and Gnaeus the day before, in which Gnaeus nearly fell off the cliff. 

"If only he had crashed," a nasty thought crept into Pietro's head.

He was almost relieved that he should now work in the kitchen. At least he hoped to be safe from Gnaeus. There were usually no gladiators in this area of the house. Only the cook of Lanista, her helpers and some domestic slaves had access. The bedrooms of the kitchen slaves were also in the immediate vicinity of the kitchen.

Letitia approached him and carefully reached for his arm. He wondered if he made such a lost impression that she felt she had to comfort him. That bothered him. He didn't want pity. Not even from the woman who smiled at him kindly. 

"I would like to give you some good advice. Try not to be uncomfortable. Help us prepare meals here and try to be forgotten otherwise. For I have heard that Dominus and Domina have been in disagreement about your future," she said, lowering her voice before continuing. "She rarely shows herself graciously, but she said to Dominus that his actions are ultimately responsible for your situation and the resulting disputes, and if you don't cause further trouble, you could help here. If you do your work here and stay calm, you can live a good life here."

She shrugged and ended the conversation as two young slaves entered the kitchen. Pietros saw one of the girls take small bowls from a shelf, while the other laid wooden spoons on a table. Both obviously knew what tasks they had to do. 

Both girls had black hair, which hung over their backs as braid.

"You can take the pot from the fire and put it on the table," the cook instructed him. "Don't burn yourself. It's hard and hot."

  
In the late evening Pietros lay under his thin blanket on his sparse sleeping place, which was right next to the kitchen. An elderly man who took care of the plants of the villa was only two steps away from him and snored loudly. He heard the girls giggling from the adjoining room until Letitia called them to rest with a loud "Psst, I want to sleep".

But it wasn't the sounds of the night that kept Pietros awake. Throughout the day, he had been quietly involved in his new tasks. The other house slaves he had met in the kitchen had welcomed him kindly. The same was true of Naevia and Mira, who visited the kitchen in the late afternoon and had a short conversation with Letitia. Apparently it was about the food wishes of the dominacity for the next days.

But some of the behaviour of others was strange.

Naevia, in particular, had cast a pitying glance at him, and Letitia's young aides, Iras and Damaris, stopped talking as he approached them. Iras, a slave originally from Carthage, wanted to say something, but the Greek Damaris shook her head.

Apparently the other slaves had already talked about him. Did they all know why his work in the Ludus was no longer desirable and why he was sent to the kitchen instead? Probably that was the case. 

His thoughts wandered toward Iras, the young slave from Carthage. Barca had called them the "Beast of Carthage"...

Pietros wondered if Barca was wasting any thought on him at all. Where was he at the moment? Had he returned home? Was he still in town? These thoughts made Pietros angry and sad at the same time. Why had Barca gone without him?

He wiped away the tears that were in his eyes. He had shed many of them lately.

Why had Barca given him false hopes when, in fact, he had no plans to start a life together with Pietros?

He turned to the side and tried to find a more comfortable sleeping position, while the old man, Lucillus, briefly fell silent and then began to snore again. 

Pietros smiled sadly. The gladiators were much louder day and night than in the kitchen and adjoining bedrooms. Above all, more was cursed and no one bothered.

Here, on the other hand, Letitia had threatenedto lift her cooking spoon, which she apparently never let go, when Iras cut into her finger while peeling a carrot and cursed quietly. "Iras, no rough language in my kitchen! How many more times do I have to say that," Letitia scolded, and for a moment Pietros wondered if the old cook would actually beat the girl with a spoon. 

But Iras had smiled and swallowed her curse. Apparently, the slaves who worked in the kitchen adhered to Letitia's instructions. 

Moments later Pietros had accidentally dropped a wooden bowl of apples and a curse had escaped him, but Letitia did not let this go through. The cooking spoon actually clapped on his back of his hand and she looked at him sternly. "You're no longer with the gladiators. So rein in your tongue. That's not how we talk here!"

The two girls, who were cleaning vegetables nearby, giggled and Pietros realized that there were really different rules here.

The young man's thoughts wandered back to Barca and another thought crept in, not for the first time. Had Barca really left him? His heart actually told him something else. But could he listen to it? He remembered something Letitia had said when he arrived.

Why had Domina Lucretia asked her husband to give him a job in the kitchen after his behaviour was allegedly no longer acceptable to the Ludus? Why hadn't they sold him directly or, in the worst case, sent him to the mines? Why had the Domina told her husband Batiatus that he himself was responsible for the Quarrels among Gladiators?

Quarrels, for which Pietros was most responsible...

Shortly after Barca went away, it began. Gnaeus, who had followed him with eyes many times, was no longer satisfied with this and with fleeting, seemingly random touches. Instead, one morning in the neighborhood he had shared with Barca, he pushed him to the ground. When Pietros resisted, the gladiator punched him in the face a few times before the man let his hands wander further. 

The only reason the attack didn't get worse for Pietros was that Spartacus came into the cell and Gnaeus moved away from him. Gnaeus uttered loud curses that Letitia would never have tolerated in her kitchen, and he gave Spartacus a boost before he turned his greedy gaze again on Pietros. Gnaeus apparently forgot the other gladiator, who was in close proximity, during the brief moment. Instead, he reached for Pietros again, who crawled away from him and rubbed his bruised cheek.

Then the boy saw Spartacus'Faust land in Gnaeu's face. Another blow sent him to the ground, while Pietros pressed himself unsafely against the wall. 

"Disappearance," Spartacus urged the other man. "If you try something like this again, you're worse off."

The gladiator turned to Pietros, who looked anxiously at Gnaeus. Gnaeus apparently did not want to argue with Spartacus at the moment and preferred to withdraw. "Are you good?" asked Spartacus, and Pietro's saw compassion in the eyes of the other.

"It... I'm fine..." replied the younger, but he could not suppress the trembling in his voice. The final moments before Spartacus's intervention were just too scary for him. But wouldn't he have expected something like this? Eventually, he noticed that Gnaeus gaze was constantly following him.

Spartacus said otherwise, but Pietros barely heard the words. His thoughts moved in a different direction. When Barca were still with him, Gnaeus had not dared to touch him. This time Spartacus had come to his aid. But what would happen next time?

The next time took place a few days later. This time, the Medicus had asked Pietros to bring him new bandages while treating a gladiator, Hamilcar, who had been injured during training. 

When Pietros went to the small room where the Medicus kept his supplies of medicines, herbs and bandages, he was pushed against the wall and he felt smelly breath in his neck, before an unhealthy kiss, which resembled a bite, was pressed on him. 

"This time no one is helping you. You belong me," Gnaeus whispered, and Pietros wondered if the gladiator was watching each of his steps. Did he pursue him? Didn't he have to be in training?

Pietros tried to shake off the man, but knew he had no real chance. But this time he was lucky again. The voice of The Medicus rang out. "Gnaeus. What are you doing? Away from the boy!" he cried and Hamilcar, who had followed the Medicus despite a wound on his upper arm, grabbed Gnaeus by the shoulder and pulled him away from Pietros. "Leave him, go to training," he demanded in a calm voice. "You're going too far."

Gnaeus listened to Hamilcars words, but hissed an angry "Soon it's so far" before rushing outside to start his training with the other gladiators. 

"This cannot go on like this," murmured Hamilcar, who otherwise understood Gnaeus quite well in a sombre tone, and the Medicus nodded before turning to Pietros. "I need new bandages. I have to take care of Hamilcar's arm," he said, notgoing the incident, while Pietros muttered a quiet "Gratitude".

  
Incidents of this kind were piling up. While most of the gladiators did not interfered, there were some of them who had apparently decided to keep an eye on Pietros. Once again, Spartacus helped him when Gnaeus intercepted him again. Next time it was Spartacus and his best friend Varro who helped him. On one occasion, even Doctore had his whip slammed when Gnaeus pushed Pietros into a corner after training. On the next incident, Spartacus Gnaeus struck out a cheek tooth, which he spat furiously on the ground before a brawl broke out. Other gladiators also took part, although most of them didn't even know exactly what it was all about. Each of them found a reason to fight. 

Eventually, Doctore and three Ludus Guards had to separate the fighters. One of the guards looked at Pietro angrily. "There's always trouble because of you! You should be removed from this place."

Pietros did not want there to be a dispute because of him. But was it really his fault? What did he do so badly? Apparently, Gnaeus felt emboldened by his mere presence. But even if Pietros did not want riots to happen because of him, he was very grateful to the gladiators who helped him.

He wondered why they did it. Was it pure kindness? Old loyalty to Barca? Many had wondered that he had left without Pietros and no one could really explain it. Still, Pietros remained suspicious. Did the helpers expect a quid pro quo for their help? But no one approached him with a corresponding request. He regretted his mistrust, but as Barca left him, he found it difficult to trust words and deeds.

After all, even the one he trusted the most had bitterly disappointed him. The young man decided to do everything possible to avoid future difficulties and to avoid Gnaeus presence even more than before. Pietros was so busy getting out of the way of Gnaeus and fulfilling his daily duties that he didn't constantly think of Barca, at least during the day.

Those thoughts came on the night he rolled sleepless and rolled her and wondered if and why Barca had gone without him. 

But he didn't know what to believe. A part of him kept telling him that the gladiator hadn't just left him without a word. He remembered the last time they hugged. Barca had been happy. Happy that both would have a life of freedom. 

If Pietros had known that it was the last time they touched, he would never have let him go.

Pietros looked at the empty spot next to his sleeping place. It was far too quiet without the breaths of the other. He reached for the place where Barca's hand was usually located. Even in half-sleep, the gladiator had pulled his boy to himself and put his arm around him, and Pietros had fallen asleep with a smile.

These memories made him sad, and he mostly sat down and wondered again what had happened. Why was Barca gone?

"He never really loved you. You were a pastime for him. Surely he has long since found someone else in freedom, someone he really loves. You were annoying to him, that's why he left," whispered an evil voice in his head. "What did you think? He told you lies to lure you to his bed. You know he also had a dark side. He was not the shining hero you make him now."

But another, quieter voice said otherwise. "He didn't leave you. Barca would never have left you, at least not voluntarily."

"Nonsense!" answered the first voice. "He left you because of a lack of affection. You were indifferent to him."

"No, he was forced to leave," replied the second voice, as a third voice intervened. And this sounded almost like Pietro's own voice.

"He's dead."

"He's dead!" whispered Pietros, and this possibility was the worst of all.

For a few days, Gnaeus left him alone. Did he understand that some of the other Pietros were protecting him? 

In this way Pietros came to rest a little. 

One morning Pietros took care of Barca's birds. He hadn't yet thought of separating from them and leaving them free, because Barca had been very attached to the animals. They reminded him so much of him. He took a pigeon out of a cage and gently held it in his hands. "Do you miss Barca too?" he whispered, stroked his thumb over the bird's head.

Unexpectedly and brutally, he was knocked to the ground. The pigeon flew away while one hand grabbed his hair and pushed his head to the ground, while Pietro pressed a weight on his back that almost took his breath away.

Once again Pietro's Gnaeus smelled stinking breath and wondered what the gladiator smelled at all. He was used to the sweat smell of gladiators, as he was among them every day. He didn't mind. But with Gnaeus it was different. The man caused an incredible disgust in him by his smell alone, so that he would never have voluntarily considered him a companion or lover in other circumstances.

Damn, he didn't consider anyone as Barca's replacement at all, and certainly not this brutal near-rapist Gnaeus. 

At some point, he was not only scared, but also angry. He would not give up without a fight. Pietros tried to free himself from the weight on his back. At that moment, he regretted that he was not one of the gladiators who could have fought Gnaeus in a very different way.

But despite Pietro's resistance, Gnaeus laughed. "Because of it, I lost a tooth. I would advise you not to make a sound from you. Or do you want something to happen to you, and especially to the birds of your Barca? Do you want me to rip out their wings and break your teeth out of them?"

Gnaeus put a hand on Pietro's mouth and he fought back so well. He bit and his teeth drilled deep into his attacker's thumb. Pietros tasted blood in his mouth. 

Surprised and angry at the same time, Gnaeus cried out loud and pulled away his hand. "You damn little one Shit..." he began, when Pietros was suddenly able to breathe freely again, as Gnaeus was torn away from him.

"Don't get in! He's there for that," Gnaeus roared, and Pietros turned around. He sat down and looked at the angry man who had grabbed Gnaeus. His thumb was bleeding heavily.

Once again, Spartacus Pietros came to the rescue and dealt Gnaeus a slap in the face. "You don't understand it, don't you?" asked Spartacus, and Gnaeus broke free and ran past him.

"I'm going to get him! He is mine!", Gnaeus roared.

"This has to stop now," Spartacus growled and followed the other gladiator.

Pietros got up and couldn't stop him trembling a little. He was grateful to Spartacus for his help, but feared that Gnaeus would not be deterred.

A short time later, he heard that there had been another brawl between Spartacus and Gnaeus on the training ground. The latter almost fell down the cliff. There was no doubt that Gnaeus would have died in such a fall, and it was only at the last moment that the intervention of the other gladiators saved Gnaeus from certain death. 

Pietros learned all this from the words of the men who walked past his room while releasing Barca's birds. He hesitated to separate himself from the animals. But in this way they would at least live in freedom. Above all, they would be safe from Gnaeus.

"This ass Gnaeus is not worth having serious difficulties with Batiatus," Pietro heard voices from outside. "It's a misery. Gnaeus is a good fighter. Doesn't the boy provoke it?"

Pietros looked to the ground. So some of the men actually thought about him that way. 

Another man, Varros, disagreed. "It is Gnaeu's fault. He is the one who causes unrest. I just hope that Spartacus does not get into too much trouble. But Batiatus is said to be angry, it was not the first time."

There was silence for a moment before Varro continued to speak. "But he doesn't get the trouble alone. Batiatus is equally angry with Gnaeus. And unfortunately also on Pietros. I've heard that he shouldn't stay here!"

This announcement was a real concern for Pietros. Where should he go, or better to be taken?

  
The next day, just before noon, he was asked to pack up his few belongings. He was told to help in the kitchen of the villa of the cook Letitia. He also learned that Spartacus and Gnaeus had to cope with half of their food rations for a few days.

He gave Gnaeus the punishment. He was sorry for Spartacus.

But he no longer had the opportunity to thank Spartacus for his help or say goodbye to him or anyone else.

Thus Pietro's new phase began in his life as a slave to Quintus Lentulus Batiatus. He hoped that he would now at least be a little safer from Gnaeus.


	2. Kapitel 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It goes on with the story. Pietros learns about Barca's fate and promises himself something.

Chapter 2

Since working in the kitchen Pietros felt a little relieved. 

Under Letitia's supervision, he quickly became involved in his tasks in the kitchen. The activities proved not too difficult and Letitia seemed to be satisfied with his work. He befriended Iras and Damaris a little over time. They often joked at work and kept quiet only when Letitia lifted her cooking spoon. But this was mostly done with a smile.

She still did not tolerate curses.

Soon he had closed the older woman in his heart and she obviously enjoyed mothering him and the two girls a little. 

Every now and then Naevia joined them. Pietros had met the young woman in the Ludus before and she had always been friendly towards him. That's how it was now, but sometimes he felt like she was dodging him. 

He wondered why. But since Iras, Damaris or Letitia were usually present, such moments were not so common. 

He also came well to Lucillus, the old gardener of the villa. He was a quiet man who did his job conscientiously and, although he was also a slave, always seemed to be in a good mood. Mostly he talked about plants and although Pietros wasn't really interested in the subject, he listened politely.

Pietros was particularly relieved not to meet Gnaeus.

There was also no contact with the other gladiators. He regretted this a little. Above all, he felt compassion when he learned that Spartacus was grieving for his wife Sura. Letitia reported. The old woman muttered something of a tragedy and that it had been a crime. 

"What do you mean by that?" asked Pietros, but the cook shook her head. It almost seemed as if she had noticed that she had said too much. "The death of this young woman is simply sad. It's always sad. But you know that by yourself and...It was also a tragedy."

Pietros remained silent. She obviously spoke of his loss, but seemed to regret it, because she gently patted him in the arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make sad memories. Me and my big mouthpiece."

Pietros forced himself to smile. "You don't talk that much at all." 

She nodded. "Of course not. Too much to talk about is not good. For no one."

Pietros concluded that Letitia knew of far more things in the Batiatus House than she admitted. She also informed the house slaves closest to her about some of the things.

"Dominus Batiatus has bought new gladiators. Lucretia and this... blonde woman have already looked at the men", she said one day. Pietros knew who was meant by the "blonde woman". It was Ilithyia, the wife of Gaius Claudius Glaber. 

"No one should draw the wrath of this man. His punishments are cruel," Letitia said, hoping that he or his wife would never know that she had spoken disrespectfully about Ilithyia.

She looked around, as if she feared that Glaber might stand behind her.

Nevertheless, Letitia spoke from time to time. She didn't like it at all if Glaber's wife visited the Domina Lucretia. "There is always trouble when she visits this house," Letitia muttered, urging Pietros and the girls to stay away from her whenever possible.

One day Pietros was carrying a large basket of pears in the kitchen when he met a happy Naevia. "Crixus is better off", she said to Letitia. 

Pietros recalled that the gladiator had taken a long time to recover from an injury. Spartacus was now the new champion. Pietros knew that Crixus would be far from happy about this circumstance. But he rejoiced at the news that the gladiator was better off.

Letitia looked at Naevia almost sadly. "Child, don't make yourself unhappy. If the Domina learns of it..."

She was silent when she noticed Pietros, but even he knew that Naevia and Crixus were closer than their Domina, Lucretia, could be right. Letitia obviously thought that one day this could be a disaster for Naevia.

Discreetly, he left the kitchen to help Lucillus, who dragged a potted palm tree onto the balcony. Domina Lucretia had ordered the balcony to be redesigned a little, as she wanted to observe the gladiators from a more beautiful environment. That is why she had ordered that her observation site be decorated with new plants. She probably wanted to impress her friend Ilithyia. But Pietros didn't care when he helped Lucillus. The work had to be done.

He was a little worried about Lucillus. The old man seemed exhausted. "Is it going?" asked Pietros anxiously. Lucillus nodded. "Yes, everything is fine. I just have to take a deep breath."

Pietros and Lucillus watched the glatiators at training for a brief moment. Pietros saw some new faces and old friends of Barca. But his eyes were looking above all for Gnaeus, who fortunately stood with his back to him and did not see him.

"The two in the back, these are brothers from Germania," Lucillus said, pointing to two of the new gladiators. The brothers stood together and laughed at something.

"One is doing quite well, the other is more difficult," Lucillus shared his knowledge.

The gardener pointed to another of the men. "And the one at the back is Segovax. Ilithyia should be interested in him."

In the last words, he lowered his voice. "But you don't know that from me!"

Segovax began a practice fight with Gnaeus. Pietros returned to the house before the gladiator noticed his presence on the balcony. Lucillus follows him. Pietros hoped that the newcomer would win the fight, but Gnaeus was a very good fighter, despite all the madness he had shown him.

"Barca would bring the new ones to the ground first," Pietros thought. He recalled that his lover had not been very gentle with other fighters.

He still thought a lot about Barca, especially at night. The thoughts robbed him of sleep. During the day he could mostly distract himself from the work. He didn't expect to be able to do that one day.

But the nights when only the snoring Lucillus was near him were still agonizingly slow. As he listened to the gardener's snoring, he was desperate to regain his inner calm, and this was not due to the old man's sounds. 

  
One day he took up his courage and turned to Letitia, who prepared a goose to be served in the evening. 

The new commander of the city guard, Lucius Fabius Drusus, had announced his. Letitia should prepare a good meal.

"Letitia, do you know anything about Barca?"

She shrugged and almost cut herself. That was answer enough for him. She needed to know something. But what? He had suspected it for some time, but not yet dared to ask. Perhaps he was afraid of her answer and didn't want some bad guesses to be confirmed.

Nor did he want to jeopardize their friendship by putting them under pressure.

The older woman sighed. "Boy, that will hurt you. I don't know what really happened. But... I hear a lot. More than some like."

He nodded, he was well aware of it. Letitia had eyes and ears everywhere and still managed to never stand out. Nobody really paid attention to the old fat cook and this circumstance brought her a certain knowledge advantage. 

"What do you know? This uncertainty also hurts. I don't know if I meant anything to him at all..." he started and swallowed the tears down. He wouldn't cry in broad daylight like a little girl in the kitchen.

But Letitia obviously noticed how much the circumstances depressed him. Eventually, she gave herself a jolt. "Of course, I don't know what your Barca felt for you. But me and someone else noticed something that night. Domina and Dominus should not know that I know. I know it from..."

"Naevia", Pietros finished the sentence for her. 

Letitia nodded. "But that remains with us. And don't talk about Naevia, it wouldn't be good for them either. Promise me that!"

Pietros agreed. He would promise everything if he only finally learned the truth. 

Letitia lowered her voice. "Naevia saw and heard something and then she came to me distraught. She said Barca probably didn't leave the place alive. You know Ashur? He has to do with it. And the Dominus. Our Domina has also noticed it."

Pietros held on to the table and took a deep breath. He had guessed something, but he didn't want to see it.

The idea that Barca had let him down had been hurtful. But now he realized that he would have preferred it much more. Then Barca would at least still be alive.

"Have you seen it?" he finally asked.

Letitia shook her head. "Of course I haven't seen anything. Then I could be already dead or on my way to the mines. But after Naevia told me what she knew, I kept my eyes and ears open. After all, I need to know what is going on in this House!"

Despite his grief, he had to smile at her words. 

Letitia has served in this house for so long that she considered it her home. In her kitchen, she was the unrestricted ruler. There she forgot that she was a slave. Batiatus once said that he would rather sell ten gladiators than his good cook.

But if she knew things she wasn't allowed to know, they wouldn't save her cooking skills, no more.

"He's really dead?" asked Pietros again, and this time he couldn't hold back his tears. "I was so hoping that I would see him again."

Letitia hugged him maternally. "I understand your grief. I know this pain, even though it was a long time ago. But with time it gets better."

She stroked calmly over his back. "I don't know the exact circumstances. Naevia probably doesn't know either. Domina will tell us nothing. She stands by her husband. Always. She supports him. But she disapproves of some things. Maybe she knew you were now without Barca's protection because of her husband.

Letitia sighed. "Actually, she is not really interested in the fate of the slaves. But perhaps she was temporarily affected by the whole situation. That's why she may have made sure you work in the kitchen. This also prevented further unrest among the gladiators."

Pietros nodded in silence as he wiped away the tears. Letitia took his face into her hands. "You're not allowed to talk about it. You would put yourself, Naevia and me in danger."

Pietros did not want this, although he felt anger in addition to the grief. Part of him wanted to hold Batiatus and Ashur accountable. But then they would find out who had told him. Moreover, Batiatus would certainly not justify himself of a slave.

He did not yet know the exact circumstances of Barca's death.

All that mattered was that Barca was dead and he would never see him again. He wouldn't even know what had happened to his remains. His killers would get away with their act. What could he do as an insignificant slave? He couldn't even protect himself. 

Apparently, not even Barca, one of the best gladiators this place had ever seen, could have done anything about his own death.

Letitia looked at him sadly. "I'm so sorry. Perhaps I should have said that earlier. You would at least have known that he did not go without you."

She sighed. "I've suffered this before, too."Pietros looked at her in surprise. Had Letitia ever had a man? He had never heard of it and could hardly imagine that she was in love with anyone. 

"You?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes! I wasn't always an old woman who had enough meat on her ribs. I was also young once.", she said.

"Of course!" Pietros rushed to say, and he was grateful that she tried to comfort him. He forgave her for not speaking earlier. After all, she would have put herself and others in danger. No, the old woman was not to blame for Barca's fate.

This guilt was borne by others.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I wasn't even twenty years old at the time," Letitia said. "I was a house slave and, like you, i helped the cook at the time. And there was this gladiator. His name was Rufus. He was called Rufus the Butcher. He didn't like the name. I didn't like him either.

She smiled sadly. "We were in love and also dreamed of winning our freedom. But then he died in the arena."

"I'm very sorry about that," Pietros said, and he meant it honestly. "I was always afraid that Barca might die in the arena."

Apparently Letitia was happy to talk about her past. "I didn't see it, but I was later told that it wasn't really a dangerous opponent he was fighting. The fight should not be deadly either. But the other landed a single happy blow when Rufus was inattentive at the most unfortunate moment. This had never happened to him before. But on that day he had the misfortune and the happiness of his opponent on his side."

For a moment she was silent and her thoughts seemed to wander back many years before she gave herself a jolt and turned again to the goose. 

"Back to work. The goose does not cook alone. The food must be ready in time. Drusus, the new city commander, is coming soon. And after that, if you want, you can retreat back to your bedroom. No one will notice. I'm going to tell the girls that you're not doing well."

  
Pietros kept his promise and did not speak to anyone about what Letitia had entrusted to him. He continued his work in the kitchen as conscientiously as possible and was grateful that he did not meet there Batiatus or others involved in the death of his beloved man.

Perhaps he could not have held back his feelings. Not as expected by an obedient slave.

Dark thoughts came in the night and robbed him of sleep. It took him weeks to sleep deeply and dreamlessly for the first time, only to have a bad conscience the next morning. How could he sleep peacefully when his loved one was murdered? It seemed almost like betrayal to him. 

He made a promise to himself. Barca remained forever the only one to whom he had opened his heart in this way and with whom he had shared his bed. In this way, no one would ever get close to him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we get to know another person who was created by me and who will still play a role.

Lucius Fabius Drusus was glad when he was able to leave the house of Batiatus. The only thing he liked was dinner. The goose had been delicious. Apparently there was a good cook there.

He tied his horse up in front of the district of the city guard, where, among other things, the municipal prison was located, and shortly afterwards entered his small accommodation.

It was perfectly sufficient for his needs.

He didn't need too much space, after all he lived alone and he wanted to save costs wherever he could. His predecessor in this office had loved it much more luxuriously and lived in a small villa in one of the better neighborhoods of Capua.

"Waste", Drusus thought with a hint of contempt. "That's why he didn't really have some things under control here."

Recently there has been a murder, assault on women and, more recently, a stabbing in one of the taverns of Capua. He, Drusus, would keep order. The streets of Capua would be safer.

In addition to the decent Roman citizens, shady figures also roamed Capua. He thought of the five men who were currently in the prison cells. There were three thieves, a knife-wielding man and an escaped slave, whom he would return to his owner tomorrow. The criminals would receive their just punishment. The slave would be supplied by his dominus. 

Drusus poured himself a cup of wine and drank it, although he was hesitant to drink alcohol. Eventually, an incident could occur at any time, demanding the presence of him and his men. That was another thing that made it unwise to live too far away from the main quartier.

He thought of his two older brothers. They were seventeen and fifteen years older than him and came from his father's first marriage, and their hair was already grayed out. The two were probably not taken out of bed at every possible and impossible time because they were highly respected senators in Rome.

Rome.

He missed the city. Was there anything more magnificent than Rome? And he also missed Marcella, even though her divorce was a year ago.

He shook those thoughts off. Marcella didn't deserve to waste a thought on her. He recalled the reason for the divorce. He had found them in the arms of this former gladiator, who had won his freedom in the Arena.

She had shamelessly cheated on him, and the other man had laughed cheeky in his face and then knocked him down. 

After all, it hadn't happened in his own house, but the two had met in a shabby spelunke in one of Rome's worst neighborhoods. If one of his wife's slaves had not told him that Marcella, wrapped in plain clothes, had sneaked on to this man, he probably would never have known about it.  
"Gannicus. He fought here in Capua," Drusus cursed.

Drusus had drawn his sword at the time and would have liked to have killed the man immediately, but the former gladiator had been unarmed but faster, and then Drusus lay on the ground after a slap in the face.  
The former gladiator had preferred to leave the room while Marcella had stood between the two.

Eventually, she concluded that it was better to stay with her husband. "Ultimately, I could offer her more than a gladiator could have done," Drusus thought bitterly.

Then she had tearfully confessed to him the affair with this bastard and asked him for forgiveness.

He could not forgive her. She had hurt him too much, although he blamed Gannicus in particular. Surely the guy had seduced his wife.

In the end, they had been divorced.

"Gladiators! What do they have in themselves? Why are the women running after them?" Drusus wondered not for the first time, because this had been a dark spot in his life even before Marcella's deceit.

During his childhood, he had wondered why his father either ignored him or treated him condescendingly. He was the only child from the second marriage of Iunius Fabius Drusus. But contrary to the support his father, a respected senator, gave to his older sons, he had not cared for the young Lucius.

His mother Corinna had never been able or wanted to answer the question of why. The relationship between his parents had been very cool, but unlike Marcella's family, Corinna's had been very rich and his father had not been able or would not divorce.

After Corinna's death, Iunius drunkenly hurled the truth in his son's face. 

Lucius was not his son. He deserved neither the encouragement nor the affection of the man who recognized him as a son to avoid embarrassment.

Drusus put his wine cup on the table when he undressed to go to bed. He laughed bitterly when he thought that he and his alleged and now deceased father, who had distributed his fortune between his older sons before his death, had a great deal in common.

Corinna had also cheated on her husband with a gladiator and apparently even had feelings for this man. She, too, had been caught by her husband one day. When she noticed her pregnancy shortly afterwards, Iunius knew that he could not be the father of the child.

For too long he had not visited his wife's bed. Only the gladiator was considered a father. Assuming she hadn't cheated on him with more men. But Iunius had not accused his wife of this either. 

The gladiator was found dead a short time later and it was never clear how he had died. His body was covered with countless wounds. Corinna had cried bitterly when she heard about it.

Unlike her husband, she had loved her son.  
But she had taken away from him the love and money of his alleged father through her behavior. Drusus blamed them in hindsight.

Marcella had also had a child, of whom Drusus did not know who the father was. Apparently gladiators were very productive. He had never seen little Drusilla and didn't want to. She and Marcella were back in the house of their family of origin. They were lucky that Marcella's parents had taken her back. The grandparents had apparently even locked the little Drusilla in the heart.

Although he missed Rome, Drusus was glad that he had now got a good position in Capua. After the divorce and the birth of little Drusilla, which he did not recognize as a child, there had been too much gossip and gossip. His stepbrothers had already feared that this might also damage their careers in the Senate, and suggested that he should seek a different position.

Commander of the city guard could not be compared to a senator, but it was also nothing he had to be ashamed of. After all, he had earned his own position. He had not been promoted like his two stepbrothers, who apparently knew his true origins and never had a good word for him. He also had a lower rank in Rome.

Batiatus and his wife had invited him to dinner that day. He had hesitated to accept the invitation. But then his curiosity had prevailed. He wants to know where the gladiator who destroyed his marriage came from. Of course, he had not spoken to Batiatus about it. Instead, he had inquired carefully whether he had his gladiators under control. That was at least as important to him.

This was confirmed by Batiatus, while the delicious goose was served by a young slave named Damaris. The girl had watched him secretly and thought he wouldn't notice. She was a pretty girl. But girls like Damaris were everywhere and he had no intention of claiming the hospitality of Lucretia and Batiatus longer than necessary.

Unfortunately, Batiatus had told stories about his gladiators after dinner. The name of this cursed cannicus had also been dropped several times. Above all, Batiatus boasted of his current best gladiator, a man named Spartacus. Then he invited Drusus to visit the games. 

Drusus knew he had to do it well or badly. He would watch the women of Capua look at the gladiators and ridicule themselves and their husbands. 

Eventually he saw Damaris, the slave, again before he left the house. He had briefly pulled her into a corner and she had looked at him as expected. Apparently she found him attractive, even though he was at least fifteen years older than her. Yes, he could have had she in that moment. Surely his hosts would not have objected if he had asked them to do so.

He even thought about it fleetingly, but then he came to what he wanted from her. 

"You could help me," he whispered in her ear, and she nodded. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked softly, and he smiled kindly at her. "You go to the market sometimes, don't you?" he asked. 

She nodded. "Yes, sometimes I shop with other slaves."

"Then it would be a great help for me if you would inform me if there are any difficulties here, especially with the gladiators,"he said, and she nodded approvingly as he pressed a few coins into her hand and smiled at her again.

Apparently she wanted to help him and that's what he needed. If Batiatus found that she provided him with information, she would probably be punished. For such things, slaves had already been killed by their owners.

But he didn't care. Then he had to look for another informant and he was certainly quickly found. He had to intervene in time if there were problems in this place. The gladiators were a danger.

He wanted security for his city.


	4. Kapitel 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something in the air. Soon there will be a rebellion, probably in the next chapter.

Pietros wondered about Damaris in the next few days. The young woman had a smile on her lips and summed up a melody that Pietros did not know. Perhaps the song came from her Greek homeland? With her thoughts she seemed to be somewhere else and more than once Letitia had to call her to order.

One day Pietros, along with Iras and Damaris, brought the purchases that other slaves had brought from the market to the pantry.   
"I would have liked to go to the market," Damaris sighed.

She had a dreamy smile on her lips.

Iras looked at Pietros before telling the other girl what she was thinking. "You're in love! But I have no idea who it is."

Damaris giggled silly and Iras gave her a pusher against her arm. "Tell us who it is. One of the gladiators? One of the new ones? Or one of the others? Ist es Donar? Duro? Hamilcar? Agron? Pollux? One of the Gauls? There are a few pretty ones. Or our Champion Spartacus?“

Damaris shook his head and looked outraged. "A gladiator? No. None of them.They are too coarse and hostile to me. Surely they treat their wives the same as their opponents in the arena or during training. I will tell you. But don't tell Letitia.“

Pietros rushed to unpack the goods.

He liked the two girls and he indulged Damaris in love. After all, he himself knew how beautiful such a thing could be. But he didn't feel ready to delve into the love life of others. He knew it would make him sad and remind him of his loss. He wasn't ready yet.

In the meantime, Iras had vowed not to reveal who Damaris was in love with. Damaris looked conspiratorially around before telling her two friends the secret.

"Lucius Fabius Drusus"

Pietros almost dropped the basket with the fresh eggs, which would undoubtedly have caused him great problems with Letitia.

"What?" asked Iras, and she suddenly looked at the other very seriously. "This must not be true. This terrible man?"

Damaris looked embarrassed to the ground. "I don't think it's horrible. He was very nice to me."

Pietros shook his head. He was worried about the young girl. There were stories about Drusus that he didn't like at all. Apparently he had punished even minor offenses excessively harshly, and he had acquired a certain reputation in the short time he had become the city commander of Capua.

"Did something happen between you?"

To his relief, Damaris disputed that question. Nothing had happened, and from her other words he finally heard that it was just a swarm of her. He would not have liked the young woman to have been used by the commander.  
Time passed and Pietros left the seclusion of his small world, only to help Lucillus with all the activities concerning the plants. Rarely did he accompany the house slaves responsible for the purchases from time to time to the Capua market. This happened when Letitia needed special ingredients for a meal and Damaris and Iras were busy with other activities.

The grief for Barca haunted him. Again and again there were situations that reminded him of him. Sometimes he thought he saw one of Barca's pigeons and envied the animals as they flew away again. It had to be nice to go where you wanted to go.

He knew he couldn't hide the rest of his life in Letitia's kitchen and surroundings. Often enough, he also felt anger at Barca's killers, and he knew he would never forgive them. 

But his life was no longer just marked by sadness and anger.

He often caught himself laughing at a joke Iras made. She often told funny stories. Or he caught himself listening as Damaris shared her gossip, which she had heard from some house slaves.

Sometimes the conversations were more serious. 

„Actually, we have it good here“, Damaris said one day. "I heard that in one of the other villas there was a girl who wanted to run away. She was severely punished."

"The poor," Iras said with pity. "Hopefully the punishment wasn't too heavy."  
Outraged, Damaris shook his head. "She was stupid. I cannot understand she. Mira told me about it. She heard that the girl wanted to go home, to Gaul."

Pietros did not feel completely incomprehensible about the behaviour of the girl.

Again and again there were stories of slaves trying to escape. Most of the time, this failed and led to harsh penalties. A house slave who had fled had Drusus return to his dominus. It was said that the fugitive was then beaten to such an extent that he died of his serious injuries a day later.

Such stories had a deterrent effect on other slaves. Pietros thought this was wrong. He felt sorry for the punished. He and the other slaves who worked in the kitchen were still lucky compared to others. They were left here in peace. But he also knew that some of the other house slaves were sent to the gladiators to share the bed with them. He has experienced it more than once in his time under the gladiators.

Mira had met Spartacus in this way and it was an open secret among the kitchen slaves that Crixus shared the bed with Domina Lucretia from time to time. 

Many slaves had a harder time than in his current situation. They worked in the fields, in the mines or had to share the bed with people like Gnaeus. 

Above all, the latter thought made him shudder. He knew that some slaves served a dominus as bad as the gladiator. 

This may well be a reason to try to escape.

  
Over the next few weeks, incriminating messages invaded the world of kitchen slaves.

For one thing, one of the new gladiators, Segovax, was cruelly executed. Iras reported it and she was visibly shaken and terrified. She had brought grapes and wine to the balcony that evening, while the people gathered there were watching the man's death. To her relief, she was allowed to leave after serving the food.

But the few moments were already too much for them. Distraught, she returned to the kitchen. 

„"They crucified him. And before that, they neutered him. All the blood! But he is also said to have tried to kill Spartacus. Still, it was horrible!", she said and trembled as Letitia comforted the girl in her arms , but something muttered about the "terrible blonde woman who only brings misfortune."

Then Varro died, Spartacus killed him at a birthday party on the instruction of a spoiled Roman boy. Pietros was very sorry because he knew how close Spartacus and Varro had been. He also regretted the death of the blonde gladiator. He had stood by him against Gnaeus and treated him kindly.

Another message filled him with quiet satisfaction. Apparently Gnaeus had crossed a line when he dared to grab another gladiator by the butt. The gladiator then knocked Gnaeus out two more teeth and injured him so badly that he had to remain under the care of Medicus for two days.It was rumoured that Gnaeus was now often in trouble and that even those with whom he had understood well so far had gradually lost patience with him.

It was rumoured that Gnaeus had gradually lost his mind and was even more unpredictable since he suffered a head injury a few weeks ago, and was even more unpredictable than at the beginning of Pietros' work in the kitchen. 

This fact that the other gladiator had beaten Gnaeus gave Pietros a sense of satisfaction. 

It was said that Gnaeus had since escaped the man's path. Pietros again regretted that he had not been stronger and could not defend better.

Perhaps the gladiator would have left him alone even after a first, so obviously failed attempt.

Next, the thing happened with Naevia. Letitia sighed. "I feared it. It has to happen."

Pietros escaped a curse when he learned how Crixus and Naevia were treated after their love was discovered. What had they done so terribly, except to love each other? This time, Letitia even refrained from reprimanding him, and he saw that she shared his opinion.

He was most shocked when he learned that Naevia had been sent away and Letitia was silent about where she could have been taken.

"The poor girl," she whispered one day, horrified, while Pietros, Iras and Damaris looked at her inquiringly. But the cook didn't speak. "There is nothing we can do about it. We can only ask the gods to watch over them."

But there was also good news, which Dominus and his wife were very happy about. After a long time, Domina Lucretia was apparently finally expecting a child.

"So the Dominus becomes a father?" asked Iras, but Letitia snorted contemptuously. „Who wants to believe it... but poor Aurelia, Varro's wife, now works for the Dominus, because of the debts…"

Pietros did not stop. He knew that Domina Lucretia was putting horns on her husband. He wondered if Crixus was indeed the child's father and doubted that he would be too happy about it.

Then Letitia got every reason to get upset. The guardians of Glaber, the man of the "terrible blonde woman", took control of the gladiators and the conditions of the men deteriorated.

Glaber took over the patronage.

The worst thing for Letitia was the fact that Ilithyia was present in the house more often than before and Pietros, like the cook, stirred the soup very furiously and cut the carrots less lovingly than before. 

The name Glaber was also whispered anxiously among the slaves in the kitchen, and Letitia regularly asked her three protégés not to be uncomfortable. Again, she seemed to know more and told Pietros that there had been a crime. Somehow Batiatus had in his Glaber hand and Letitia knew enough to know that she didn't want to know more.

Ashur was also somehow involved in the story.

"That doesn't surprise me," Pietros said with bitterness.

This, too, caused Letitia to shake her head and she was once saddened. "I don't want to defend him. He has caused suffering. Nevertheless, I experienced Ashur differently. He was a nice young man when he came to Ludus. But he was also badly played along. Also from men you appreciate, Pietros. In certain circumstances, people do things they would never do in other circumstances. Some then choose the wrong way. In my life I have met three or four young men from the Ludus who were not even able to kill a fly. They were sick of homesickness and just wanted to stay alive. I sometimes gave them treats because I am so sorry and have been treated badly by their comrades. A few years later, they were bloodthirsty animals that had no good word for anyone and that everyone else, including me, was afraid of. It never ended well. Today, these men have been dead for a long time."

""That doesn't justify anything!" Pietros responded a little more forcefully than intended.   
He looked at Letitia apologetically and pressed his hand briefly. "No, it doesn't justify anything at all," she said softly."And I'm also angry, especially when I think of Naevia. But do you know where you will be in ten years' time? Do you know what kind of person you're going to be? Perhaps circumstances will force you to do things that would frighten you today."  
Pietros forced himself to smile. "Then was Ilithyia an innocent lovable little girl?"  
Letitia shrugged and shook her head. "No! she not!"

  
The mood in the house and also in the Ludus deteriorated. Damaris ran around disappointed for a day when Letitia forbade her to go to the market with the house slaves. "Why do you really want to go along? You usually complain to Iras and Pietros that the way is so far, especially if you are supposed to carry purchases. Do you want to meet with a young man?", asked Letitia. "That's not good for you at the moment. The mood is too tense for that. And that only brings problems. Think of Naevia."

Pietros wondered if Damaris wanted to go to the market to watch Commander Drusus from a distance.

  
There was disturbing whispering among the house slaves and Damaris was visibly frightened. "Nothing will happen, isn't it?" she asked anxiously several times. "I don't want anything to happen. We are doing well. If these terrible gladiators do something wrong now, we will all suffer. I don't want that! Let them leave everything as it is!"

In fact, there were softly whispered words about a planned uprising, and Letitia was also very concerned. "Lucillus and I are way too old for something like this. If I was as young as I was when I loved Rufus, he would be among the gladiators.... Then... maybe…"

She was silent. After all, Glaber and the "terrible blonde woman" had some influence on the house of Batiatus. If it had been dangerous to say anything before, it would have become even more dangerous now. 

Damaris again asked to be allowed to enter the market, and Letitia again forbade her. The young Greek seemed to be very afraid. Above all, she was afraid of what the gladiators would do in the villa. Maybe they would kill everyon.   
She hoped that it was just stupid rumours and that there would be no rebellion. Iras was also scared, but seemed to wait and see what would happen.

  
Lucillus fell ill. His heart caused him trouble. That's what the Medicus, who took care of him, said. He also told the affected Letitia that this was due to age.

Lucillus had to stay in bed. As Pietros sat at his bedside and had him eat a hot soup, he thought about where he would stand if the impending uprising really occurred. 

The next day, guests were expected, and it was supposed to be a fight between two gladiators, Spartacus and Crixus. Letitia had been commissioned to prepare a good meal.

When Pietros awoke that morning, he had dreamed of Barca. In his dream, they had left the house together and Barca had put his arm around him. "We are free, Pietros. We can go where we want."

The dream had been beautiful, but also sad, because he knew it would never be like this. Still, he felt that something was going to happen that day. 

Was there a new change in his life? And was it good or bad? Something seemed to be in the air and he was surprised that Batiatus hadnot noticed any of it. Apparently, he and his wife didn't care what was going on under ordinary slaves. Or did they believe that the Ludus guards had everything under control? After all, thanks to Glaber, there had been a strengthening there.

Pietros got up, looked briefly at lucillus, which seemed even weaker than the day before, and decided to ask Letitia to prepare a strengthening broth for the old man who had grown close to his heart.

Whatever would happen, that was now a priority.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters are written from different Perspectives. It starts with Lucretia, who is morally quite flexible.
> 
> There is also a warning for the next chapters. It will be bloody and ugly, even if there is not so much of it in this chapter.  
> A few things will be a little different for some in the next chapters than in the series, while the plot remains the same for all the other characters.
> 
> Thank you for Kudos and feedback. It means a lot to me.

**Chapter 5**

  
**In the next chapters there are different perspectives.**

**POV Lucretia **

Lucretia smiled affectionately at her husband Quintus and then looked at Ashur, who entered the room.   
The man had proved useful, but now she wished he would no longer harass her and Quintus.   
In her opinion, there were too few moments she and her husband spent together anyway.

  
There was always something to do. Sometimes there wasn't much time for Marriage tenderness

  
A lot was planned for this day.

  
Respected guests were expected. There was reason to celebrate. Among other things, the problem with Crixus would be solved once and for all. She regretted that this had to happen. But Crixus had deceived her along with Naevia. 

His words about the child she was pregnant with had hurt her. More than she wanted to admit. 

Ashur had also proved useful in solving this problem, although the effects would only become apparent later in the day. Well, Ashur had enough reasons to annoy himself, and in this case, their interests complemented each other.

But she didn't want to think of any slaves. She wanted to spend a little time with her husband and gave him a look.

Quintus understood. He raised his hand. "Now not, Ashur. Later!

Ashur left the room and Lucretia got up and hugged her husband lovingly. "Thank you for sending him out of the room. I enjoy our moments. In a year's time you will hold our Son in your arms."

Quintus laughed and put his hand on his wife's belly. "Yes, I will. We still have to come up with a name. Maybe after my father…"

Lucretia interrupted him. "We will certainly find another beautiful name. You know that the relationship between your father and me was difficult. I don't like to call my son your father's name."

No, Titus certainly wouldn't name her child. After all, it had been difficult enough to get rid of the other bearer of this name.

Quintus eventually nodded, but left the name question unanswered. „We will find a name for the little one. And now rest a little. Tonight it will be a long time before we get to bed."

Lucretia smiled. Her husband would become a good father, she was sure. Your child wouldn't miss anything. Who cared who was the real producer? Even her unborn son would never know the truth.

Quintus gave her a tender kiss and she left the room. 

On the other side of the door, Ashur stood to talk to her husband. She asked himself fleetingly what he urgently needed to discuss. It was probably again about the fact that some slaves, especially gladiators, were dissatisfied and that he, Ashur, was concerned about it.

For days he had already bothered Quintus with this problem. But her husband didn't seem to take Ashur's concern too seriously.

And if there were real troublemakers, Quintus would take care of it. Lucretia was sure of this. Of course, some of the gladiators caused more trouble than others. But the Ludus guards had always got to grips with the problems. 

But she really didn't want to deal with that at the moment. She retreated to her room because she had important things to do. She hadn't planned which dress she would wear in the evening. It definitely had to be nicer than that of Ilithyia and the other women.

  
POV Pietros 

  
Pietros struggled to convince Lucillus to eat a little soup. The old man seemed to have lost his appetite. He looked sleepy and Pietros left the room to give the gardener his rest. Today he would water the plants and he suspected that this would continue to be one of his tasks in the future.

  
Letitia was sure that Lucillus would not live long. His heart became weaker and he didn't want to eat anymore. For Letitia, this was a sure sign that the end was coming.

The prospect of the old man's death made Pietros sad. He didn't want to lose anyone he liked. He decided to look at Lucillus again later.   
Now he had to help together with Iras and Damaris Letitia, who prepared the food for the evening celebration.

Today there was a lot to do. 

There were many delicacies and Pietros thought that there would certainly be a lot left. He and the other slaves in the kitchen would also benefit from this. 

  
Letitia was busy with the final preparations for the dinner, while Damaris and Pietros were busy putting the treats on wooden plates and trays.

"I still have to fry the fish, then we're done," Letitia said, nodding, visibly satisfied with her work. 

Pietros took a grape and Letitia threatened to lift her cooking spoon, which she had at hand as always. "Don't get caught!" she said earnestly, but then smiled when she also took a grape and took it in her mouth. "Nobody sees it."

The guests had already arrived and watched the fight between Crixus and Spartacus from the balcony as Iras entered the kitchen. She had served the guests and announced that more grapes were needed. In addition, the guests had asked for new wine.

Damaris went to fetch the wine, while Letitia put a small bowl with a few slices of apple on the table. "They are for Lucillus. Maybe he'll be better off if he gets a little fruit."

Pietros nodded that he would later bring the apple to Lucillus and make sure he was eating it. 

Then he turned to the Iras. "What about the fight? Who will win?" 

„Spartacus. Crixus somehow doesn't seem to be doing well."Iras answered and she seemed depressed. "Probably this will end with his death. I'm sorry for him. What shall we say to Naevia when we see her again?"

  
"We won't see her again!" Damaris interjected a little, and she pressed Iras into her hand a wine jug that Letitia had just parked. "Bring the to the guests. I'll take the grapes."

Iras nodded. "Then we can see the end of the fight. Guests are curious to see how it ends. The other gladiators are all watching. They all have chains on their hands. They seem to be kind of afraid of them. But I don't know if I really want to see Spartacus kill Crixus."

Pietros didn't want to see it either, and he clenched a hand to his fist. He had known Cixus for a long time. He had been a friend of Barca and Pietros did not wish him death. He knew that even Spartacus didn't, even though he and the other gladiator were not good friends.

But did one of them have a choice? Was there a choice in Varro's death?

Letitia put a hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry for Crixus and also for Naevia," she said sadly. "And Lucillus is so sick. I don't think it's a good day for us slaves."

Letitia looked very sad and Pietros would have liked to say something to comfort her. Instead, he went to a shelf to fetch a pan for Letitia to fry the fish.

But when he reached for the pan, the door was ripped open and Damaris ran, pale in the face and followed by Iras, into the kitchen.   
Iras slammed the door behind her and looked around. "We have to block the door!" she cried, while Damaris clinged anxiously to Pietros' arm.

At that moment, muted screams rang out from beyond the door and hurried steps could be heard. "The gladiators. They fight. Spartacus jumped on Crixus shield and then onto the balcony and he killed Magistrate Sextus! It was horrible. That much blood," it broke out of Damaris. "He actually wanted to kill our Dominus!“

"Oh you gods," Letitia lamented, and she looked around perplexed. "What happens to the girls when they come here?"

Damaris started crying and Iras reached for a meat cleaver and a small knife that was normally used to peel the fruit. Pietros also looked around for a knife, while a scream rang out outside. Swords colliding with each other and loud screams could be heard again.

Did the gladiators storm the house?

Damaris let go of Pietros' arm and ran to the door. She ripped her open and stormed out. 

Letitia watched in horror. "What does she do? She should stay here and hide."

Pietros continued to search for a weapon, but in the kitchen there were only small knives like Iras holding in her hand. The only way to fight was probably to throw bowls that were in the kitchen. 

Letitia came up with a malicious idea. "We make the water hot," she said, as she lit the fire under the pot that hung on the fire pit. Then she poured water from a jug into the pot.

"Someone who is greeted by a swell of boiling water will probably consider attacking someone here," said the old woman with a grim glance, turning to Pietros and Iras.  
"I'm an old woman. Men who have become wild should have no interest in me. I also know that there are many decent people among the galdiators. But there are also such Gnaeus. That's why I want you both to go to Lucillus's bedroom and barricade yourself there."

Pietros nodded to Iras. "Do that. But I'll stay here.…"

He didn't want to hide. He certainly did not want to leave his defense to an old woman. He finally found something that could be used as a weapon. He grabbed a small knife lying in a basket of apples. 

It was unsuitable for a real fight, but it was better than nothing. 

Letitia nodded unhappily and Pietros felt a sudden determination in him that surprised him. He never thought he was particularly brave. But he would do what he could do to protect Letitia, Lucillus and Iras.

Outside it was already dark, there were repeated shouts, screams and the clapping of the weapons. 

Then the kitchen door was ripped open. A very young gladiator entered the room and quickly looked around. "Are there Romans here? Guards?"

Letitia snorted contemptuously. But Pietros noticed that the old woman was quite terrified. "No, there are no guards here. That's the kitchen! Here are my assistants Pietros and Iras, who will not touch them, an old dying man and I!"

The gladiator lowered the sword he held in his hand. Apparently he had taken it from one of the Roman guards. There was blood on it.   
Pietros knew the young man fleetingly from seeing, but could not remember a name. 

He was apparently only in the Ludus for a short time.

"Who are you?" asked Pietros cautiously, as the man opened the door to Lucillus and Pietros` bedroom and waved out Iras. 

"My name is Florus," answered the man, but Pietros searched in vain for the sign of the brotherhood on his arm.

"Since when have you been with the gladiators?" he asked.

Florus poured a little water into a cup and drank a sip. "Not long. Only for two weeks…"

He didn't seem much older than Pietros. Maybe he was younger. His light blonde hair was cut short and he had a very light skin. "Spartacus said I should look for the slaves in the kitchen," said the young man, uncertainly. 

Apparently, other gladiators who were concerned about such things had sent him to the kitchen to keep him out of the fights, as he was probably still too inexperienced.   
Pietros thought Letitia had apparently lost her fear. Instead, she looked at the aspiring gladiator as if he were one of the men she wanted to comfort with pastries.

Florus apparently noticed the look, too, and he rattled himself a little. "There are still fights that are going on. The guests fled. I think a few of the slaves ran out with them."

"What about the Ludus Guardians?" asked Pietros. 

"Most of them are dead!" replied Florus. "And you should accompany me. We will leave this House. No one can stay."

Pietros agreed internally. Of the slaves or gladiators, no one could stay in the house of Batiatus. Presumably, every slave would become suspected of having been involved in the uprising.

Pietros was particularly concerned about Letitia and Lucillus. How should the two old people cope outside the kitchen? 

But Letitia put her arm around Iras with a sigh and pressed her briefly. 

Apparently she was particularly concerned about her protégés. "Is it safe for the girl?"

Florus nodded. "Yes. For slave girls, for everyone. And Spartacus also said that none of you should do anything."

Another grim-looking gladiator also entered the kitchen. "Florus, don't talk that much. Come, we must hurry."

He waved to Pietros, Iras and Letitia and they left the kitchen with him and Florus.   
Pietros knew him from his time in Ludus. Pollux was his name.   
But he only wanted to accompany the two women until he was sure that they would be safe.

Fortunately, the gladiators they met on the way to the others behaved decently. They apparently searched the rooms for more Romans, but let the three slaves pass by untroubled.

Pietros turned to Pollux.

Eventually, there was Lucillus, whom they had to take care of. "I have to go back. Lucillus, the gardener, dies. We can't just leave him here!"

Pollux took a dissatisfied look at Pietros. "You should have said that earlier. Stupid guys. Florus, accompany him and help him with the old man. Take it with you. I take care of the cook and her helper."

"And nothing will happen to them? Nobody touches them?" asked Pietros again. He marveled at the firmness in his voice, while Iras clung to Letitia's hand.

Pollux nodded impatiently. "Nothing happens to them, but hurry up. We cannot stay here for too long. Perhaps the city guard will be informed. Eventually, some guests and some slaves left the house. We do not know with how many men the city commander will come here."

Pietros and Florus made their way back to the kitchen and Letitia gave their assistant a last look. She looked like she would like to accompany him and not let him go alone.

"Please help Lucillus," she asked quietly, and Pietros nodded.

Pietros and Florus rushed back to the kitchen, but then heard a woman's outcry and Pietros hesitated for a moment before deciding to look. Florus followed him.

Was one of the house slaves in danger? Had any of the attackers fallen over her? 

Pietros suddenly had to think of Gnaeus and was grateful that he had not yet met him.

  
But there was no slave girl in danger. Pietros instead saw Lucretia, who was anxiously confronted with the angry Crixus.   
"The child," she whimpered, and Pietros remembered that his domina was pregnant.

The man who was the father of this child held his sword in his hand. Apparently he was determined to attack Lucretia.

Pietros acted instinctively, knowing full well that it was probably madness to stand in the way of an angry gladiator.   
When Crixus slammed him with the sword, Pietros ran towards him and pushed him away from Lucretia.  
"Crixus, no. The child! It's not to blame... "

Crixus injured Lucretia despite Pietro's intervention and she grabbed her side. She collapsed on the wall and crouched on the floor in horror, while Crixus looked at Pietros furiously.

"Disappear from here," Crixus hissed, looking for a moment as if he were going on Pietros. "She should tell me where Naevia is."

Lucretia whimpered, but shook her head. Apparently, she was on the verge of losing consciousness.

Florus grabbed Pietro's arm. "We are not the ones who should kill each other now!"

Pietros would have preferred to have withdrawn from the angry Crixus when he shook off his arm and took a step at him and Florus.

"I know someone who may know where Naevia was taken. The domina can't tell you anything," Pietros said softly, pointing to the woman.  
That was true, because Lucretia seemed to have lost consciousness. Or was she dead? She lay motionless in front of them.

"Who knows anything about Naevia? Who knows where she is?" asked Crixus, grabbing Pietros by the arm. But the gladiator seemed not only angry, but also desperate. "Tell me!"

"Don't do anything to her. She is an old woman." Pietros asked the angry gladiator. "Please, do nothing to her. It's the cook, Letitia. She always knows what's going on in the house. If anyone knows where Naevia was taken for the first time after she was taken out of the house, it is her! Maybe Naevia is still where she was taken. But you must not hurt Letitia or be rude to her. If you touch her the way you touch me, you will break her arm!"

Crixus let go of Pietros. "I don't do anything to friendly old women. I know Letitia. Naevia has also always spoken well of her."

He rushed away, no doubt he wanted to talk to Letitia. 

"He's horrible to newcomers, I don't like him," Florus said as they looked after Crixus and Pietros bent over Lucretia.

She opened her eyes. Her smile was mocking. Her unconsciousness was apparently only fake, although she pressed a hand on her side. 

At least she was in real pain.

Pietros carefully pulled the woman's hand away. The dress was torn at the point where the sword had hit her, and he saw a bloody cut on Lucretia's ribs.   
Pietros reached for a blanket lying on a small table and pressed it on Lucretie's wound. 

She reached for his hand, but did not look at him very gratefully. He wondered why. Hadn't he helped her? 

Eventually, she spoke.

"If you speak only one word of what was spoken between Crixus and me about the child, I will have your tongue cut out."

Florus reached for Pietro's arm. "Come on. Let's look at this Lucillus. It's not worth taking care of them. Besides, she will not let anyone's tongue cut out so quickly! Not when everyone is gone.“


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to goddess_of_the_arena for the comments.
> 
> Here's the next chapter. The uprising in the house of Batiatus continues. One person rushes away to get help.
> 
> Chapter warning
> 
> Attempted sexual assault and death of a recurring character. Death, Struggle, Violence.
> 
> different perspectives

** POV Drusus **

  
Drusus was satisfied with his work. The day before, his men had managed to arrest a thief who had long made the streets of Capua unsafe.

Of course, the inmate had initially boasted that he would confess nothing and would never betray his gang members. Drusus shook his head contemptuously. How many times had he heard such a thing? In most cases, bravery was quickly over once the correct methods of questioning were used.

It took Drusus and his men only one afternoon to learn everything they wanted to know.

In the morning, his soldiers had brought two accomplices of the thief to the headquarters. The three had formed a small gang and attacked harmless citizens. 

Drusus had no pleasure in mistreating prisoners. He left this to Aurelius, one of his soldiers. Drusus resorted to torture only when he was sure that someone was guilty and withheld really important information.

For him, the work was now done. He was not responsible for condemning the small gang. They were also not Roman citizens. Probably the judge in charge would make a short trial with them.

Drusus decided to go to the shared accommodations and have a quick dinner when someone knocked on his door.

One of his men stood at the door and grabbed a young girl by the arm.

"She really wants to talk to you," the man said. "She says she is a slave from the house of Batiatus, and the gladiators have slaughtered the magistrate and other Roman citizens."

The thought of dinner disappeared immediately.

Drusus recognized the young girl. It was this young slave who looked at him now from anxious eyes.   
„It's good," he nodded to the soldier. "Let them go. I know the girl."

He recalled that he, too, received an invitation to the ceremony, which took place today, but had to refuse it because of his duties as city commander.

In truth, he hadn't really been sad about not attending the celebration. These rich people, who boasted of their wealth and spent most of their time intrigue, reminded him too much of his two stepbrothers.  
The two Roman senators and their high-heeled wives would have felt comfortable at such a celebration. 

He and his wife Marcella had often sided with each other at such celebrations and secretly made fun of the other guests…

The man let go of the girl and Drusus waved to her.

Normally, he rarely greeted someone in his little room. There were also offices. But the matter apparently rushed and there was no time to move into the official area of the headquarters.

"What do you say? The magistrate was assassinated?"

He tried to stay calm because the girl seemed very frightened and surely she would be more talkative if she had confidence.

"It... the gladiators.... Spartacus... he killed the magistrate. And there is an uprising. They stormed the villa. There was a celebration. The guests were still able to escape. I ran out with them... at the last moment..." she stammered.

Drusus nodded and waved the soldier to him. ""We must act."

He asked the girl how many gladiatorial insurgents there were and how many deaths were to be expected in the villa.

"Damaris, isn't it?" he asked the girl by her name.

She nodded shyly and he smiled at her briefly. He remembered now. This was this girl who had adored him on his last visit to Batiatus. 

He had paid her for information, but she had not yet visited him.

"Damaris, you will stay here. One of my soldiers will accommodate you here," he said.

She looked at him anxiously. 

He tried to reassure them. If the girl panicked, she wouldn't help anyone. "Don't worry, it's not a prison cell. It is an accommodation for guests, similar to this room. You get something to eat."

Another soldier entered the room and asked Damaris to follow him. 

Drusus nodded at her again briefly. "You did it very well. It will ensure that you are not suspected of being involved in this uprising. For others involved, this will be different."

Damaris was visibly terrified and wondered why. Was she worried about herself? Or others?

But that wasn't his concern, he had more important things to do.

  
A gladiatorial revolt was underway and it was necessary to immediately nip it in the bud. If these men escaped, they would probably fall over the city and the surrounding area like beasts, and all his efforts to make Capua a safe place would have been in vain.

Moreover, such a revolt could spread quickly.

While one of his men took Damaris away, Drusus turned to another soldier. "Alarmour our men. They should arm themselves and go straight to Batiatus' Ludus. Send someone to the other locations locations in the city. Reinforcement should also come from there."

He thought of something else. "Imagine for battles. There will be sacrifices. Among our Roman fellow citizens, slaves and gladiators. We need a Medicus. Best more than one. Take them with you and protect them. We also need a car and to transport possible wounded people. Take care of all the injured and try to keep them alive where possible. The Romans to help them and alleviate their suffering. The slaves and gladiators to interrogate them. They should not escape a possible public execution. I want prisoners."

The soldier rushed away and Drusus drank a sip of water before reaching for his weapons to rush to Batiatus' house with his men.

If the gladiators had not already fled, there would be a hard fight.

  
**POV Pietros**

  
Pietros and Florus rushed back to the kitchen after leaving Lucretia.   
Shortly afterwards Pietros entered the sleeping chamber of the old Lucillus with a cup of water in his hand, while Florus waited in the kitchen. 

He sat down next to the old man, who laboriously opened his eyes. "I heard noises. And Iras was suddenly gone. What is going on? Are the Romans attacking?"

Pietros shook his head while the old man clutched his hand. "We have to fight. They will burn down the village!"

Apparently Lucillus was somewhere in the past. The young man tried to calm him down. "Everything is good, the Romans will not come. Your village is not burning. Everyone is doing well!"

Unsure, as if he had awakened from a dream, Lucillus Pietros looked at. "Really?"

"Of course. You are safe," said Pietros, raising the man's head to give him some water.

But Lucillus shook his head. "I'm tired. When the Romans are gone, can I sleep, can I?"

When he asked, he looked at Pietros and saw a smile scurrying across the old gardener's face. "In Crete there are the most beautiful flowers. In the grandmother's garden…"

"Lucillus?" asked Pietros quietly, but the old man did not answer. A smile surrounded his lips and he looked very peaceful. 

"Then go to your garden. And when you meet Barca, greet him from me and tell him that I love him," Pietros said, closing the gardener's eyes.

He was glad that the old man had died peacefully in his bed, but he also knew that he and Florus could not stay.

He pulled the bed corner over Lucillus and asked the gods to take care of the gardener's soul. Surely he would go to the Elysium and there he would be surrounded forever by plants and flowers.

  
Pietros eventually rose and entered the kitchen, where Florus was still waiting for him. 

"Let's go," he said, and they went to the door, but stopped when it was ripped open. 

Pietros stopped and could no longer move when he looked the man in the face. It was distorted by madness.

"Gnaeus..." pietros whispered, while Florus looked uncertain. "What... Do you want to?"

"I want him," Gnaeus said, pointing to Pietros. "The others are just leaving the house. Batiatus is dead. His wife is not next to him. Crixus says it's somewhere else. She should be next to him. Just like you will be right next to me! Just closer!"

Pietros was now sure that he was dealing with a madman. 

The gladiator briefly grabbed his head and approached Florus before the young recruit could react. 

Gnaeu's sword quickly pierced the young man's neck and Florus fell to the ground with a surprised look. Pietros was terrified when his companion died before his eyes. He looked around for a weapon, and his gaze fell on the sword that Florus had dropped when he died.

Gnaeus, on the other hand, was no longer wasting his sight on the dead. "Now we are both completely undisturbed! A few slaves have already left the house and I told a stupid house slave that you are with them. She will tell the others, and no one will know that you are still here!"

Pietros withdrew from Gnaeus when he stormed towards him and punched him in the face. Pietros fell to the ground and hit his elbow. 

"Must go," he thought, a little dazed, trying to ignore the pain in his arm. He knew there would be no escape or no help for him.

Didn't the gladiators and house slaves leave the house?

Gnaeus laughed as he grabbed Pietros by the arm and dragged him awkwardly towards the fire pit. The flames burned brightly and his gaze fell on the pot of hot water that was still there.

The water had to boil by now.

"I could keep your head in the flames," Gnaeus said, laughing. "If you don't stand still, that's what I'm doing."

Gnaeus grabbed Pietros` neck and pressed. The pressure was not strong enough to strangle him, but it hurt and Pietros reached for Gnaeus` hands and tried to push her away.

The gladiator laughed at the young man's futile attempts, but then his face distorted and he abruptly let go of Pietros. Gnaeus grabbed his head and moaned loudly and painfully. "My head. Again…"

Apparently his attacker was in pain. Pietros wondered if this was due to the gladiator's head injury some time ago. He pondered whether he could get to Florus' weapon., but between him and the sword was gnaeus, whose pain seemed to pass.

As soon as he could, Pietros rose when he came up with a desperate idea. 

Silently, he thanked Letitia for her foresight.

While Gnaeus pulled his hands off his head, Pietros took a step towards the fire and reached for the pot in which the water was boiling.

When the gladiator approached him and reached for him, Pietros ignored the pain caused by the hot pot on his hands and poured the water on Gnaeus.

Then he let go of the pot.

Gnaeus screamed as the boiling liquid hit his face and torso and he waved back. 

"You're going to pay me, you damn rat! For this I will kill you," Gnaeus roared, holding one hand in front of one eye. 

Apparently the water there had led to an injury. Gnaeus swayed backwards and almost fell.

  
Now the way was clear, and Pietros quickly ran to Florus' corpse and took the sword that lay beside the dead.

Gnaeus launched an attack and grabbed his hand roughly. Brutally, he squeezed her together and Pietros screamed as the skin irritated by the hot pot was so painfully pressed.  
It also hurt to hold the sword in the other hand. Nevertheless, he struck Gnaeus with the weapon.

He looked at him in surprise and angry as the sword hit his shoulder. 

  
Gnaeus let Pietros go and wavered back. "I'm going to kill you for that! Whether dead or alive, you belong to me," said the gladiator, grabbing his injured shoulder. "Only a scratch..."

Pietros saw that bubbles began to form on Gnaeu's face and torso, and the gladiator leaned against the table, but then made arrangements to draw his sword.

Pietros grabbed his sword with his aching hands and ran towards the gladiator. Gnaeus threw himself to the side, but was much slower than usual due to his injuries and so the blade drilled into his chest. Pietros struck again with all his strength before the gladiator went down.

"You... belongs to me," said Gnaeus, who ran blood out of his mouth, before he collapsed.

Pietros took a few steps back, then hit a shelf. He leaned in and slipped to the ground.

Gnaeus no longer moved, but formed a huge pool of blood under the gladiator.

  
Pietros closed his eyes and was only happy for a brief moment that this attack was over.

His worst enemy was dead.

**POV Lucretia**

  
Lucretia held her husband's body in her arms. The gladiators and all the slaves had left the house. She herself had not been able to escape.

Someone, Lucretia suspected that Ilithyia was behind it, had locked the door.

Despite everything, Lucretia did not expect anything like this. She knew that Glaber's wife was not a true friend, and she herself had played evil to the other. She had to admit this if she was honest with herself.

But she almost died! If she hadn't posed dead, Spartacus and the others would surely have killed her or done worse with her.

Now all the slaves were gone. Fled.

She grabbed her wound. Fortunately, the cut was far enough from where the child grew up. She hoped nothing had happened to the baby.

She sobbed as she stroked Quintu's hair. In their own way, they had loved each other. They had been a good couple and had achieved a lot together. 

Now she felt as if half of her had died. He would never see the child.

"They will pay for this," she vowed when she heard steps coming towards her.

  
She turned around in fear. Were there still gladiators in the house? Instead, she saw Ashur coming. The events had also visibly taken him with him.

To her surprise, he held bandages in his hands and handed her a cup of water when he reached her. "Drink," he urged them. "And I look at the wound. I can help. It's not the first time I've been dealing with an injury.'

"You didn't run away with the others?" she asked, not thinking of letting him look at her wound. Maybe he wanted to do something to her? She didn't really trust this man.

Ashur sighed. "Going with them? Why should I? I never had real friends among them. Moreover, Spartacus and the others knew where my loyalties lie."

Lucretia did not want to let go of her husband, but Ashur pulled her arms away and saw her wound despite her protest.

Eventually, he nodded and seemed almost relieved. "I'm going to connect that. It doesn't look so bad and it will heal. Nevertheless, it should be examined by a Medicus."

Lucretia didn't really know what to think of Ashur. He touched her carefully and in no way indecently as he treated her wound. But she suspected he had ulterior motives.

Ashur was just as calculating as Quintus or herself. She knew that.

The thought of Quintus brought tears back to her eyes. What had these cursed murderers done to their husbands? She grabbed her belly. At least the child seemed to be doing well because she wasn't in pain there.

But Crixus wanted to kill it. It was his own child. How inhumane was he? She had given him her favor, and if he had behaved a little more cooperatively, he would not have been bad.

Although Quintus would always be the father of the child in her heart, she was well aware of the biological facts. 

But no one was allowed to know. She would make sure her son inherited her husband's fortune. She hoped that something remained of Quintus' legacy.

"What do you really want?" Lucretia turned to Ashur as he knotted the bandage to her belly.   
He nodded at her. Apparently he was ready to talk about the business again.

"I want to stay in your service for the time being. It is only a matter of time before soldiers show up. Surely someone will inform the city guard. Maybe they are already on their way. I want your protection. I had nothing to do with the insurrection!"

Lucretia knew the latter was true. And maybe ashur would really prove useful. 

"We can help each other," he said.

But she knew it was a mistake to trust him. His gaze told her that he thought the other way around.

**With Gnaeus, a recurring character died, though not particularly sympathetic. Finally, he made it here to the end of "blood and sand". I also thought it was important for Pietros that he was able to free himself from his nightmare.**

**Let's list who is still alive or has survived longer. First of all, of course, Pietros. Then Gnaeus lived longer than in the series. And Lucretia's injury was less bad. Her unborn child is still alive.**


	7. Kapitel 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes a new chapter. Commander Druus and his soldiers search the house after the uprising. They find many dead and few survivors.  
> Thank for Kudos und Comments.

**Pietros POV**

Outside it had become completely dark and a ghostly silence lay over the house of Batiatus. The kitchen was illuminated only by the glow of the fire in the fireplace.  
Pietros stared at Gnaeus and then straightened up with trembling legs. He tried to suppress them. The tension slowly gave way to him, even though he knew he was still in danger, even though Gnaeus was dead.

  
He had to watch as he came out of the house and disappeared from here.

  
But where should he go? He did not know what the other gladiators and domestic slaves were planning and where they were going. He hoped that Letitia, Iras and Damaris would be safe with them.

  
But did that also apply to him, even if he found them? He had killed Gnaeus. Pietros struggled with his rising nausea. Even yesterday around this time, he would never have believed that he would be able to do so. He was not a warrior. 

  
Pietros had hated this man and he did not regret his death.

  
But how would the gladiators react? Despite everything, Gnaeus had been one of them. 

  
Some of them, especially Spartacus, had stood by him when Gnaeus attacked him several times.

  
But Gnaeus also had friends among them. Some had already blamed him, Pietros, for Gnaeue's behaviour and the resulting disputes in the Ludus.

  
Perhaps they would understand what he had done. After all, he had only defended himself. Wouldn't they have defended themselves? Gnaeus had killed Florus. He had also been one of them, even though he had only been a recruit. And wasn't he somehow one of them?

  
He looked at Florus sadly. The young gladiatorial candidate was sorry for Pietros. 

  
Gnaeus had killed him because he stood in his way, and he had known no mercy. Pietros thought about what would have happened to him if he had not defended himself and not killed Gnaeus.

  
He would probably lie bloodied and perhaps dead on the ground next to Florus.

Pietros went to a box on the wall. There Letitia held bandages and an ointment against burns. It wasn't the first time someone burned themselves or cut themselves in the kitchen. Others had already suffered similar injuries to their hands.

  
Letitia had always been prepared for everything. Pietros took out the vessel with the ointment and then rubbed his hands with the paste. To his relief, it actually seemed to help when the pain subsided, even if it did not disappear completely. Then he wrapped the bandages as best he could around his hands.

  
Now he had to see that he was leaving. He hoped he had enough time to escape. He could not say exactly how much time had passed since his fight with Gnaeus.  
As calm as possible Pietros was moving through the quiet house when he heard loud steps and voices.

  
"Searches everything. Maybe slaves or gladiators are still hiding somewhere! And take care of the wounded," a voice barked at her orders.   
"There are only corpses lying here, in one room there was a young man, many stabs..." answered another voice, and Pietros looked around for a hiding place when two soldiers discovered him.

  
"Here is one!" called one of them, and they rushed toward him.

  
Pietros turned around, although he suspected that an attempt to escape was in vain. Still, he would try. 

  
But he didn't get far. The battle with Gnaeus had done him more than he had thought, and he did not move as fast as usual. But the two Romans seemed all the more determined to make a prisoner.

  
Soon they had caught up with him, and he cursed himself that he had not taken the sword with him. But it wouldn't have helped him much either. He could not have fought the two soldiers. In the end, he had only defeated Gnaeus because he had been weakened and injured by his headaches and hot water.

  
The soldier pointed at Pietro's connected hands. "Did you get hurt when you murdered our citizens?"

  
He wanted to punch Pietros in the face, but a voice stopped him. "Leave that. We will have enough time to interrogate him. Put him in a cell at headquarters, but before that we'll see if there are any survivors."

  
"We found the wife of Lanista and one of her slaves. She is injured, the Lanista is dead." a Roman soldier called and rushed to the one Pietros had recognized as the city commander Drusus. She is injured but is likely to survive. One of our Medicusse takes care of her."

  
Drusus nodded and rushed away, probably to see Lucretia. Lucretia did it relatively well. But the Lanista was dead. The Roman soldier holding Pietros gave his comrade a wink and he tied his hands with a rope. He went very rough and pulled the rope tighter than necessary.

  
In doing so, he roughly grabbed the injured hands of his prisoner. Pietros could not hold back a brief outcry.

  
"Don't be like that. You and your friends also had no pity for these poor people when you slaughtered them," said the soldier, giving Pietros a hard blow to his upper arm. "Forward. We will see what the wife of Lanista can say about you."

  
The man looked at Pietro with anger and contempt. "You will be held accountable for everything you and others have done. They, too, will not escape their punishment."

  
**Drusus POV**

Drusus pulled up a stool and sat next to Lucretia, who had been taken by Medicus to another room and bedded on a comfortable couch. Up to the waist, the healer had covered her with a blanket.

  
Next to her stood, with her hands tied, one of her slaves, held by two soldiers.

  
"I'm really sorry what happened here," Drusus said with regret, giving the woman his most polite smile. 

  
„I hope that the injury will heal soon. Of course, support is being sent to take care of the dead, and I promise that we will hold the criminals to account!"  
Lucretia nodded and clasped her hands into the ceiling. Drusus saw that she had cried.

  
Well, that was quite understandable. After all, she had just lost her husband, people had died in her immediate vicinity and she herself had been injured.  
He hesitated for a moment. "The Medicus mentioned that you are expecting a child…"

  
She nods. "Yes. He said that there is hope that nothing has happened to the child and that he will be born healthy in a few months."  
"I wish you!" replied Drusus, looking up angrily as two other soldiers pushed the boy they had previously captured into the room.

  
Had he not given clear instructions? Why were he and the injured Lucretia harassed at that moment? Or did the boy want to save his skin and make a statement?  
"Aurelius, what does that mean?" Drusus asked one of the two men.

  
"I wanted to know if the wife of Lanista knew anything about this slave," Aurelius replied. "What crimes he committed.…"

**Lucretia POV**

Lucretia leaned back tired. She wanted to rest and not be bothered with questions. She would have preferred Quintus to come to her.

  
But Quintus wouldn't come back. He was dead. Murdered by these beasts. These monsters.

  
She sat down laboriously and the city commander, who had proved very polite towards her, carefully supported her.

  
She nodded gratefully to him and then looked from the young slave Pietros to Ashur. Both stood between soldiers with their hands tied. Both were suspected of the soldiers and the commander to have been involved in this crime in their home. 

  
Both slaves had helped her after she was injured by Crixus. Pietros may have saved her child's life. Perhaps he had saved her life, too.

  
But he also owed it to her. Eventually, she had pulled him out of the Ludus with a touch of compassion. Without their help, he would probably have fared very badly there. At the same time, she had also defused a situation that her beloved husband had helped to shape. 

  
At the thought of Quintus, she felt again that she was in tears. She wiped it away.

  
Deprived of his protection by the dead gladiator Barca, there had been controversy over the boy. This dispute threatened to escalate. By removing the object of contention, her husband lost none of the valuable gladiators. With his help, the young man had repaid his debt. It was no longer of benefit to them and had never been.  
Of course, there was a danger that he was talking about whose child she was really carrying in her stomach. But who would be more likely to be believed? A rebellious slave or a respected, grieving widow?

  
With Ashur, it was different. She recalled her brief conversation when he helped her. He had already done a lot for her and her husband. He also knew a lot, things that the city commander was not allowed to know. She was sure she didn't even know everything Ashur and her late husband had to do with each other. 

  
What would happen if he began to chat during an interrogation by the city commander? He had a lot to tell. 

  
It could also be useful for them.

  
She turned to Drusus. "The boy is one of the slaves who rose up against us. I do not know his exact role. But I'm sure they'll find out!"

  
Drusus nodded and turned to Aurelius. "Take him away! We will deal with him soon!"  
Then he pointed to Ashur. "What about him?"

  
She smiled briefly. "He was loyal and came to my aid. This has nothing to do with this terrible act. I'm sure of that. I need his help in the near future, now that everyone else has left me. He was also faithful to my poor husband. Please let it go. He will continue to serve me."

  
Drusus hesitated for a moment, then he nodded. The slave was relieved of his Domina.

  
"Well, let him go, let him take care of his Domina," Drusus finally replied, and one of the soldiers broke Ashur's shackles. The slave rubbed a wrist and Drusus turned again to Lucretia.

  
„You can't stay here. This is where order must first be established, and we must complete our investigations. I will have brought you and your slave to my headquarters. Into the guest rooms. It is of course not as nice and comfortable as your house, but for a few days it will work. In addition, our Medicus will take care of you there and there will be helping hands."

  
She agreed, tired. She did not want to stay in this house at the moment. It was far too quiet in this place, even if she knew she wanted to return as soon as possible.  
But at the moment, while the dead were still here, it was unbearable.

**Drusus POV**

  
Drusus left Lucretia to inquire about the state of affairs in the house.

  
One of his soldiers reported to him. „There are no more slaves here in the house. We have found three injured guards, the Medicus takes care of them. You can probably provide further information. Outside on the training ground we also discovered two seriously injured guards and several dead. One of the guards died after the discovery, the other is also being treated by another Medicus. It doesn't look good."

  
Drusus was glad that he had thought of taking several healers with him. Apparently they were needed, even if the help for almost everyone came too late.

  
"Are there survivors among the slaves and the gladiators?" asked Drusus as he followed the soldier into the open air and let his gaze wander.

  
Several dead soldiers and the bodies of gladiators lay on the ground. A single, severed head was also there. 

  
The soldier shook his head. "We won't find anyone here, I'm sure. We have already inspected the premises of Ludus, but there is no living soul either."

  
Drusus sighed. He would have loved living gladiators who could tell him first-hand about their crime.

  
A Medicus, an older man with a well-groomed beard, bent over one of the dead gladiators and grabbed his neck to feel a palpable pulse. „He's dead. There's someone over there. I look after him. But I think it's also hopeless."

  
Drusus nodded to the Medicus named Alexios, who conscientiously did his work. At the very least, he and his colleagues could have helped some guards, and Batiatus' widow would probably recover.

  
As it looked, the slave from the villa was the only prisoner they had made.

  
But that would certainly change soon. He was convinced that sooner or later he would find the escaped slaves. Then they would be held accountable.

  
They had to prevent the events of the Batiatus House from serving as a bad example for other dissatisfied slaves.

  
"Commander," said Alexios, the Medicus, who had bent over another gladiator, and Drusus turned to him.

  
"What is there?" he asked, while the Medicus examined the motionless body in more detail.

  
"He is still alive," he said, and Drusus approached.

And here we have another survivor.


	8. Kapitel 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. There is another survivor. Commander Drusus wants to get a grip on the insurgency. Pietros situation is deteriorating.

**Drusus POV**

Drusus looked at the rainless gladiator, next to whom Alexios went into the squat. He couldn`t see signs of life, but he was also not a Medicus. For him, the dark-haired young man definitely looked dead.

  
A bloody wound was on his stomach, and his face was pale, but the Medicus seemed to know what he was doing.

  
"It would be advisable if I could get help from another Medicus here. The injury is severe and I would prefer to treat the wound inside. I also need more light," said Alexios, his voice fluctuating with urgency.

  
Drusus nodded and ordered one of the soldiers to look for one of the other healers, while he ordered some other men to help the Medicus bring the wounded into the house. If it were up to him, this prisoner would remain alive. However, he was not sure whether this would succeed.

  
"Do what you can!" demanded Drusus, and the Medicus nodded, but his gaze was sad.

  
"I don't know if I'm doing him a favor," the healer muttered, and Drusus agreed with him inwardly.

  
If the wounded were to remain alive, he would voluntarily or involuntarily answer some questions as soon as he was able to do so. It wouldn't be an awakening in a friendly environment.  
But from Drusus point of view, this was his own fault.

  
**POV Pietros**

Pietro's situation had deteriorated over the course of the evening. It seemed to him that years had passed since he had prepared dinner with Letitia and the two young women.  
Since then, he had experienced a gladiatorial uprising. He had lost a friend like a grandfather with Lucillus and ended the life of another man himself. Now he was in the hands of the Romans and would probably be one of the first to pay the price for the uprising.

  
"Go away," one of the soldiers ordered, giving him a slight jolt.

  
Pietros had to walk the city guard to the headquarters, while another unconscious prisoner, apparently one of the gladiators, was carried by four soldiers on a makeshift stretcher. The same was true for three injured Romans, while another injured man, who was wearing an arm in a noose, was able to ride a horse.

  
Every now and then a Medicus looked for the prisoner and the other injured. Of course, most of the soldiers rode on their horses. 

  
Lucretia and Ashur were transported in a carriage pulled by horses. They kept a little distance from the others. Apparently, you wanted to give Lucretia a little rest.  
Nevertheless, both Pietros and the other survivors were surrounded by enough soldiers. Apparently it was feared that some of the escaped gladiators were still nearby and did not want to be helpless.

  
Commander Drusus wanted to protect the injured, especially Lucretia. At the same time, attempts at liberation for Pietros and the other prisoner should be prevented. 

  
The Roman soldier, who rode next to Pietros, had already announced that he would personally slit the throats of both prisoners in order to try to free them.

  
Pietros thought that the soldier, whose name was Aurelius, as he had learned in the meantime, would probably not come to carry out his threat. Who would bother to free him, especially since no one knew what situation he was in. The same was probably true of the other prisoner.

  
Even those who may have cared for him, Letitia, Damaris and Iras, would probably not notice that he was missing, or assume that he was somewhere among the others.  
Even they noticed his absence, that would make no difference. Surely none of the gladiators would risk his freedom and his life to free him.

  
Batiatus' slaves would be careful to widen the gap between themselves and possible persecutors as quickly as possible, and Pietros could not even blame them.  
Pietros could not hope for help from this side. He was alone in the face of the Romans. He hoped he could help himself and perhaps escape, but he didn't know how.

  
Perhaps an opportunity would arise sooner or later.

Unfortunately, he remembered that he was not alone.

  
But the other prisoner who shared his fate was in a much worse situation than he was. Perhaps he would not even reach the headquarters of the city guard alive.  
Pietros had tried to take a look at the other unfortunate prisoner to find out who he was, but he had not been able to do so.

  
In the meantime, he had undergone a rough treatment by Aurelius. He was the soldier who had been present at his arrest and had threatened to slit his throat.  
The man rode next to him and Pietros had already learned in the short time to hate him. The soldier obviously enjoyed kicking him in the back every now and then when he thought he was going too slowly. 

  
He didn't kick him as he fell. But it was still painful.

  
Ashur's location was much more pleasant. It seemed that he was under the protection of the Domina.

  
Lucretia had obviously advocated for Ashur, but not for him. So that was thanks for helping her when Crixus had attacked her? But did he really expect gratitude from her?  
Tired, Pietros stumbled along the way and he was glad that he could still stay on his feet. His hands hurt and he was very thirsty. It was also a cold night and, unlike the soldiers, Ashur and Lucretia, he did not wear a coat or cape.

  
He saw the Medicus asking the soldiers to stop before bowing over the wounded gladiator and looking at the wound. He shook his head, while Pietros received another slight kick in the back because he had also stopped. 

  
After the Medicus had spread a blanket over the wounded, he looked at the other wounded, then the whole troop went on.

  
The road seemed endless, and Pietros struggled to move forward when they reached the headquarters of the city guard, which was located in a large brick building.  
Aurelius got out of his horse and grabbed Pietro's arm before pulling him into the building. Pietros was too tired to pay attention to more details, and when he almost fell to the ground.

  
Aurelius pulled him to his feet and told the prisoner that he would pull him behind him if necessary. Pietros heard a laugh as he almost fell and looked around. Two other soldiers followed him and Aurelius. 

  
They climbed down a flight of stairs and then walked along a long corridor illuminated by a few torches. Left and right were cells and Pietros saw that some people were locked up.

  
Eventually, a lattice door opened and Pietros was pushed through after Aurelius cut the rope on his wrists. As the door closed behind him, he swayed toward the wall, where there was a pile of straw.

  
The straw should probably serve as a bed. Luckily, a jug of water lay on the ground next to the straw. 

  
Pietros took a sip. It tasted stale, but it was enough to quench the thirst.

  
Pietros sat on the straw and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the pain in his hands. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in that prison cell, even though he was so exhausted.

  
He was glad that Letitia, Damaris and Iras were not caught. He hoped they could escape, even if that meant he probably would never see again.

  
**Drusus POV**

Drusus entered the treatment room, which was located right next to the hospital rooms of the headquarters.

  
Mostly injured soldiers were treated here. Now three of the healers fought for the life of the badly injured gladiator.

  
The other injured were treated in another room and Drusus had already inquired about their welfare.  
Now his attention was focused on the prisoner. 

  
"I still have to clean it up here," said the oldest of the men, while his colleague cut a thread. "We still have to sew this."  
Drusus turned to the third Medicus, who was responsible for these rooms. He held a bloody bandage in his hands.  
"Alexios, will he survive?" asked Drusus.

  
The Medicus not seem to be sure. "I hope so. When we found him, I was convinced that he would die along the way. Now I'm a bit more confident. Fortunately, we were able to stop the bleeding. These wounds are usually fatal. But we hope that the internal organs have been spared. Otherwise, he would probably already be dead. I'm still worried about the loss of blood…"

  
Drusus nodded contentedly. "Good. When will he be able to answer questions?"

  
The Medicus shook his head disapprovingly. "I can't say that yet. Maybe never. I can't even say for sure whether he's going to stay alive at all. When I first saw him, I thought he was dead. His comrades seem to have thought so. Otherwise they would surely have taken him with them. Or they indifferent. But you can't interrogate him for the time being!"  
Drusus sighed. Also, only this young slave remained to him. Alexios looked at his colleagues and the injured man. "Do we save his life only so that he is crucified afterwards or hanged at the next tree? Or do you choose a different type of execution?

  
Drusus hesitated for a moment. Alexios, a Roman whose family tree also contained Greek ancestors, was a very direct man. He had worked as a military doctor for many years and after the battles he probably saw all the injuries that existed.

  
He took his job as a doctor very seriously and wanted those he treated to be better off afterwards. The idea that his work might have been in vain was not pleasant for him.  
Drusus estimated that the doctor had only recently treated the broken leg of one of his soldiers and prevented it from needing to be removed. He was glad to have such a capable Medicus in his headquarters.

  
He knew that Alexios also appreciated direct answers.

  
"Probably it will end with execution. But before that he will tell us everything he knows about the crime in the villa. Perhaps he also knows what the plans of this Spartacus, he seems to be the leader, and the others have. 

  
He put his hand on Alexio's shoulder. "That's why I want him to survive it. We need his information if he has any. My men are currently looking in Capua and the surrounding area. I hope they succeed. "

  
Alexios nodded and then handed a new bandage over to one of his colleagues.

  
Drusus had a different task for him. See also for the other prisoner. He has injuries to his hands…"

  
Alexios smiled mockingly and Drusus heard sarcasm from his voice. "I understand. Nothing should ignite. Otherwise, he could die of blood poisoning before being executed. That would be disappointing, of course."

  
Drusus declined to comment. „Watch out for his hands."

  
Drusus left the rooms of Medicus. At least by now he had found out the names of the two prisoners, even without their help. 

  
Lucretia had told him after she had a look at the injured man. The gladiator's name was Duro. The name of the other prisoner was Pietro and he had previously worked in the Ludus and most recently in the private kitchen of the house Batiatus.

  
Later he took care of the two. Now he had to coordinate the search for the rebellious slaves.

  
He thought about visiting this girl, Damaris. 

  
She was pretty and it was obvious that she was in love with him until both ears. He wouldn't have to push them to do anything. He didn't do anything like that. He did not think anything of taking the women against their will. He loved women who were passionate about it. What should he do with a frightened being?

  
A night with the young woman would have been a pleasant relaxation after this long day.

  
He sighed. This, like a personal interrogation of the prisoners, would have to wait. He expected an early report from the men who were searching for the escapees.  
Nevertheless, he needed information as soon as possible, so he waved to Aurelius as he walked across the courtyard of the headquarters.

  
The callee stopped in front of him and looked at his commander inquiringly.

  
"Aurelius, go to the prisoner in the cell and try to find out if he knows what the escaped slaves are planning next. Find out if he knows where they want to go and who could give them refuge."

  
A joyful smile slid over Aurelius' face. Drusus knew that the man before him liked this command. If the boy, Pietros, knew something, Aurelius would know very quickly.

  
"But don't do too much.," Drusus said. "No serious injuries and he needs to stay alive. For now."

Note

I've made Duro's injury a little less bad here than in the series. The sword pierced him there. I don't think anyone would have survived at the time. That's why the wound here is a little more harmless. But the healing will take a long time. Maybe he won't fully recover.


	9. Kapitel 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. It took a while, but the chapter has also become a little longer. For Pietros and Duro it gets uncomfortable. Drusus shows his bad side. In addition, someone discovers that she made a big mistake.
> 
> So have fun reading and comments are rewarded with virtual cookies.

POV Pietros

Pietros looked up when the door to his cell opened. A man with a torch entered the room and then placed it in a bracket on the wall. He was accompanied by a soldier.  
"I am Alexios, the Medicus," said the man, asking Pietros to get up. 

  
"I'm here to look at your hands," Alexios said.

  
Pietros rose tired and the man reached for his right hand. He removed the bandage and looked at the reddened skin. 

  
Then he nodded contentedly. "It would have to heal soon, the burn is not too heavy," he said, reaching for a small pot he was carrying in a cloth bag.  
He rubbed the palm of his hand with an ointment. "Keep it clean," he said, while also treating the other hand.

  
Pietros had not yet spoken a word about Medicus Medicus, although he was grateful that his hands were treated. The pain disappeared almost completely after applying the ointment.

  
Still, he remained suspicious. Why would anyone in this place have a reason to be kind to him?

  
Even the Medicus did not seem to mind speaking more words than necessary with the prisoner. He performed the rest of his treatment in silence.

  
After the treatment Pietros sat down again on the straw and the soldier accompanying the Medicus presented him with a warm blanket to his surprise.

  
"It's cold inside," said the Medicus, leaving the cell with the soldier.

  
But at the door he met another soldier, who was accompanied by two other men. Pietros recognized Aurelius and he felt the fear rising. Even the Medicus did not seem too happy to see the man.

  
The Medicus gave Pietros a sad look as he left the cell.

Pietros was grabbed by the two soldiers and dragged to his feet.

  
Aurelius grabbed his chin and underwent a close examination. "You've already received a few blows today, I see," said the Roman, nodding contentedly. "Did one of your victims resist when you killed them? Who was it? An old Roman? A young woman? Or a child? A bravely fighting soldier?

  
He punched Pietros in the face and he would have fallen to the ground if the soldiers had not held him. He felt blood coming from his nose.

  
"I have a few questions for you!" said Aurelius with a smile, and Pietros saw that the man enjoyed this interrogation.

  
"I... knows nothing..." replied Pietros, and that was true. What should he say? It wasn't even a question of whether or not he wanted to make a statement.

  
He knew nothing.

  
"Where did the other slaves go?" asked Aurelios, raising his fist menacingly. "If you want to avoid pain, you should speak. And then you will tell me who you killed that night. Which innocent person died through you? Or should I ask how many?"

  
"I didn't kill anyone," Pietros replied. But that wasn't true. 

  
Gnaeus had only died hours earlier by his hand. But he hadn`t no other choice...

  
"You murdered someone, I look at you. I know the look," Aurelius said, visibly satisfied. "And now I repeat my other question. What do you know about the uprising? Where did you find your... Allies fled? In which hole are they hiding?"

  
Pietros did not respond. He couldn't say anything. And he didn't want it. He briefly wondered if he could remain silent if he knew something, should this interrogation continue or get worse. He looked to the ground.

  
Aurelius grabbed Pietro's hair and pulled it so he could look him in the eye. "One of the dead in Ludus, one of the guards, was an old friend of mine. One of you killed him. As you can see, it is also for me personally. He was a good man. Worth much more than one of you. So answer my questions."

  
Pietros believed that he saw something like madness in the man's gaze. In a way, he reminded him of Gnaeus.  
Aurelius struck again and Pietros lost consciousness.

  
Pietros was lying on the pile of straw when he awoke. The blanket was spread over him and there was a damp cloth on his nose. 

  
So he was still in this cursed dungeon and knew that nothing would change so quickly. At least Aurelius was no longer with him.

  
"Barca would not have let themselves be beaten unconscious by this cursed Roman. It would probably have gone the other way," he thought, wishing more that the dead gladiator would be by his side. 

  
But neither Barca nor any other friend was by his side. He had to go through his captivity alone.

He didn't remember feeling so miserable the last time, not just because of the headacheand his injured nose.  
He gently pushed the cloth to the side and touched his nose to see if something was broken. Immediately, he regretted it.   
A stinging pain went through him and he pulled his hand back. It was probably better not to touch his nose for the time being.

Pietros wondered who had covered him and put the cloth on his nose. Aurelius certainly hadn't been.  
Perhaps the Medicus had taken care of him.

  
He let his gaze wander through the cell. It didn't look any better during the day than at night. There were chains on the wall and he thought to hear a rat quicken.   
Apparently he had been unconscious for a long time because a light penetrated through a small window that was almost under the ceiling of his cell. He heard of external steps and the rattling of weapons that were dropped.

  
Apparently behind the window was the courtyard of the headquarters. He moaned when there was a loud talk outside, it hurt in his ears.

  
"We haven't found a single one of these bastards! They seem to have disappeared without a trace.   
Apparently the soldier spoke of the escaped gladiators and the domestic slaves.

  
"We will find them already," answered another voice, which Pietros believed to recognize. "And then they will wish that they would never have been born. I will not let them get away with the murder of my friend."

  
"Aurelius," Pietros thought, recognizing the voice.

  
He heard a noise at the door and the Medicus, who had been looking after his hands the night before, entered the cell.

  
He sat up, but almost immediately he became dizzy.

  
The Medicus squatted next to him on the straw and pushed it back. "Stay lying. Aurelius dealt you a pretty violent blow. Your half of your face looks pretty taken away and you've broken your nose. I've got them right again. That should actually heal."

  
Pietros moaned internally. So he had actually broken his nose. He had seen such injuries in the gladiators and knew that this was a very painful affair.  
For some, the nose looked like before, others looked skewed.

  
But maybe he was really lucky in misfortune and it healed again. Moreover, his nose was probably his least problem at the moment.  
The Medicus removed the cloth and placed a new, much cooler one on Pietro's nose. It felt pleasant.

  
Nevertheless, he wondered why the Medicus cared for him in the first place. "Why…?", he on, but the man interrupted him.

  
"Thank you not. I am just doing my duty. I take care of wounds. What else happens to one of you is not my thing."

  
The Medicus presented Pietros with a cup of foul-smelling liquid. "Against the pain. Drink that. And sleep. As long as you can."

  
After Pietros had emptied the cup to a small remnant, the Medicus got up and left the cell wordless.

**POV Drusus**

The next morning, Drusus received the news that his men had not yet been able to track down Batiatus' gladiators. He sighed inwardly and then decided to talk to the young girl Damaris.

  
Perhaps she knew more than she had said before. Perhaps he could also combine the pleasant with the useful.

  
Drusus entered the shelter of the young slave from the house of Batiatus. 

"Don't be afraid. I just wanted to thank you again," he said, giving her his kindest smile. "Thank you, we probably came in time to save your domina. Unfortunately, the gladiators have escaped."

  
She seemed to rejoice in his praise. Well, maybe that would make her more talkative. It was not always necessary to use violence and torture in order to obtain information.  
She also looked really beautiful with her brown eyes and long black hair. She wore a hoop around her neck that marked her as a slave, but that was the only thing that indicated her position to the outside.

  
She was very shy, but he had experienced such behavior more often in free women. She was just quite young and maybe didn't have much experience in dealing with a man.  
"You look very pretty this morning," he said with a smile scurrying across her face, which took on a dreamy expression.

  
"You gods, it's almost too easy," he thought, continuing. "I need your help again."

  
She nodded shyly and he sat down on her bed and took her hand when he asked her to sit next to him.

  
She did and he carefully stroked her hand. "Have you heard anything else? Did the slaves talk about anything to do with this uprising? Do you know where they might have gone?  
Damaris shook his head. "No. I always only worked in the kitchen. Along with a few other slaves. There were rumors of an uprising. I was scared of it. But I didn't know anything. When it happened, I was scared. That is why I have come to you. And because I...

  
She broke off and looked embarrassed to the ground.

  
Drusus sighed inwardly. The young girl really didn't seem to know anything and certainly she hadn't been involved in planning a gladiatorial uprising.

  
"Without you, we would have gone to Ludus much later. Then the result would have been even more devastating," Drusus said, deciding to move on to the pleasant part.  
So he took his time as he gently stroked her arms and then her breasts. Even when he finally slept with her, he was careful and tried not to hurt her. It was a long time ago that he had such an inexperienced young woman in bed.

  
So he took his time and it was already around noon, when he finally got out of bed to dress again.

  
She lay blissfully smiling beside him and reached for his hand, but for him the meeting with her was now over.

  
"I expect my men back after noon. Maybe there's new news. I must also decide what happens to the two prisoners. You probably know one of them, Pietros. He also worked in the kitchen. The other is a gladiator named Duro. Maybe he survives.…"

  
Damaris looked at him stunned and her smile disappeared completely. "Pietros? Why? He did nothing... and over the other I do not know what he has done…"  
Drusus, on the other hand, had dressed and Damaris threw her tunic. "Dress up. And thank you again for your quick message. If I had to wait for a message from the guests that evening, we would have been there much later. Then this Duro would probably be dead and your friend Pietros would have escaped. Thank you for your help."

  
But this time she wasn't happy with his praise.

  
She was actually crying and he was almost a little sorry that he had to tell her something else.

  
"Sooner or later they will be executed or punished in any other way. But you have nothing to do with that. You will return home with your Domina."  
Damaris wiped her eyes. "But... Why...? "

  
He wondered if she had really been unaware of the fact he was telling her, or had simply not thought about it. 

"You belong to Lucretia, of course. She will be glad that she gets at least a small part of her property back!"

**POV Pietros**  
In the late afternoon Pietros awoke with a headache. He had spent most of his time in a slight twilight sleep, forcing himself to drink some water and eat some of the bread that someone had brought into his cell while he slept. It was a little hard, but he didn't care.

  
There were more important things he had to think about.

He looked up when a well-known voice quietly called his name.

  
"Pietros? Are you there?" asked a girl's voice. 

  
"Damaris?" asked Pietros, surprised. Apparently she was in the yard in front of his window.

  
He got up and stepped back a few steps until he could see her face in the window above him. 

  
She, too, saw him and was visibly terrified. „What did they do with you? Her face. Your cheek is blue! And your nose has bled...“  
Pietros did not respond to her questions. They probably didn't have much time to talk to each other. "What are you doing here?"

  
She probably hadn't been arrested, otherwise she wouldn't have been out.

  
"I... Did something bad," she said, and he was sure she had cried. 

She was sorry for him, but he knew what she was going to say to him.  
"I... I ran away when the gladiators came. I was scared. I went to Drusus and told him what happened. That's why he was there so quickly. I am to blame for the fact that you are now a prisoner."

  
She sobbed and in other circumstances Pietros would have tried to comfort her. But he couldn't. Her words were true. If the soldiers had come later, he too could have escaped.   
"What about the others? With Letitia and Iras?" Damaris asked after a while, and Pietros pondered whether he should answer this question. 

  
Perhaps she had come on behalf of the commander to question him. But when she started crying again, he answered. "They're probably good. Don't worry about them. But I also don't know where they are. And when Drusus sends you…"

  
When he mentioned this name, Damaris sobbed again. "He... just wanted to... and it was the first time I... and I have to go back to Domina Lucretia. Drusus reminded me that I am only a slave he could use... he wasn't even worth it…"

  
Steps approached and a voice rang out. "What do you have to look for here at the cells, girl? Disappear from here!"

  
Apparently a soldier had discovered Damaris, but otherwise seemed to have no interest in continuing to deal with the matter. He was satisfied that he had chased Damaris away.  
Pietros was back on the straw. His head and nose continued to hurt and he drank a small remnant of the brew, which was still in the cup that the Medicus had left with him.  
He leaned back and thought about what Damaris had said. He was angry with her and couldn't forgive her at the moment.

  
After Gnaeu's death, he probably could not have joined the gladiators and domestic slaves. In any case, they should not have heard of what he had done. Spartacus might have understood it. Some of the others too. But what about the rest?

  
But he could still have fled and found refuge somewhere, even if he didn't know where to go.

  
"Drusus! She did it because of him. I don't know what she had hopes. Now she is bitterly disappointed..." thought Pietros, recalling how deep the feelings could go.

  
He and Barca....

  
But she had no connection between her and Drusus when she went to him. She was in love with him. But that was all. If she had really acted out of fear, he could have understood her a little. 

  
However, because of her infatuation, she had risked throwing Letitia, Iras and him into this prison.

  
At least the two women had so far been spared this fate.

  
He could not imagine Letitia in this place and doubted that Aurelius would have scruples to beat an old woman.

  
**Pov Duro**

The pain on his stomach was unbearable and he wanted to reach for the painful stain with his hand, but his wrist was held coarse. He wanted to pull his hand away, but he didn't have the strength to do so.

  
Duro opened his eyes and saw several men standing around him. Two of them were apparently Roman soldiers. The others could be anything. 

"He's awake," said one of these men, but didn't seem very happy about it. "I need to clean the wound and sew it again... hold it!"  
Other arms reached for him and he felt coarse hands struggling with his wound. 

  
For a moment he threatened to lose consciousness again, but neither fate nor any gods were so gracious to him.  
"I'll do it as soon as possible," said one of the men. He was older and wore a beard.

  
"Hold his legs, otherwise he will kick me," the man added, and someone leaned on Duro's legs and prevented them from moving.

  
"So much effort for this scum," said one of the soldiers, strengthening his grip on Duro's wrist. "Should have made him desoited!"

  
"Don't disturb my work with your talk," said the man with the gray beard, and then Duro felt as if the skin on his belly was being peeled off. Someone put something in his mouth. "Bite on it. Maybe it will be easier for you."

  
Although he was lying on his back, he became dizzy and wondered how serious his injury was.

  
The bearded man then held a needle in his hand with a thread on it. "I still have to sew it, it would have ignited if I hadn't cleaned it again..." he said, and Duro felt every single stitch that followed.

  
One of the soldiers grabbed him roughly in the face. "If you think it's painful, wait for Aurelius to get his hands on you. He lost a good friend in Ludus, his only one. He found his body, along with others. Where we found you…"

  
Duro had no idea who this Aurelius was.

  
But it was true that he and Agron had fought. They had won first, but then there was this Roman and he had pushed his brother aside.

  
The last thing he could remember before he woke up to the place where he was now was the anxious and horrified expression of his brother…

  
He had never seen Agron so desperate.

  
Where was Agron?

  
He wanted to ask these questions, but then someone held a mug to his lips. "Drinking. You need water," said one of the men, which seemed to be a little friendlier.  
In fact, it was good to drink a few sips.

  
""Agron?" he asked quietly, looking around. 

  
The man stared at him without understanding. "There is no one here with this name. They are located in the hospital rooms of the headquarters of the city guard. Here I have to determine what happens. I am the chief Medicus. My name is Alexios and you don't need to know any more. As soon as you're better off, swap this room for a cell."

  
Duro tried to sit down, but didn't have the strength to do so.

  
The Medicus shook his head disapprovingly. "Stay put. Otherwise, your wound will reopen. I'll give you something now against the pain, that helps a little."

"He doesn't need anything against the pain," the soldier hissed, but the Medicus ignored the words and held a mug with a disgusting-tasting concoction on Duro's lips.

  
The Medicus and his two colleagues left the room. The soldier, who had previously said so hateful words to Duro, followed them, while the second soldier sat on a stool and leaned against the wall.

  
Apparently he enjoyed a short break and did not seem to worry that his captive, weakened by the wound, might flee.

  
Duro closed his eyes. So he was a prisoner. He wondered what had happened to Agron and the others. Were they in the cells of the headquarters? Did they still live? Had their rebellion and outburst from Ludus failed? 

  
He felt that his barely existing powers were waning, and despite his pain and the questions that tormented him, he did not manage to fight against sleep.

  
Perhaps the concoction of the Medicus had also played a role.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter. This time from the point of view of Lucretia and Duro.

**POV Lucretia**

Lucretia looked at the young girl from top to bottom. She was satisfied that she had got at least one of her slaves back. Now she had at least one servant who belonged to her and no longer she needed the help of slaves serving in the headquarters.

"Damaris. They used to work in the kitchen and were mainly busy serving food and then covering and clearing the table?" she asked, and Damaris nodded.  
The young woman looked sad and Lucretia wondered why. After all, she even had reason to praise the girl.  
"You did the right thing when you got help. So at least I survived and you will continue to serve me now. For you, this means a rise. Because I need you in my personal affairs!"  
Someone finally had to take over Miras and Aurelia's work!

Damaris nodded uncertainly and Lucretia sighed. „Girl, you have to learn to open your mouth when I talk to you. I want to talk to my servant if you take care of my hairstyle in the morning and help me to make myself pretty for the day. Others have taken on this task so far. But they, unlike you, shamefully let me down!"  
„Yes, Domina,“ replied Damaris.  
Lucretia smiled bitterly. She thought with wistfulness of her other slaves. She was reluctant to admit it, but had missed the supportive hands of the young women in recent days.  
  
She also missed the good food of her cook Letitia.  
But the old woman had also left her, and the food served in this headquarters was an imposition.  
She would soon have to go to the market and look for new slaves for her household.

She wondered where Ashur was.  
She had given him permission to leave the headquarters at will. She had also told Captain Drusus.  
Commander Drusus had noticed his disappearance with a frown, but in the end he was her slave. As long as Ashur did nothing that violated the law, his disappearance did not matter to Drusus.  
Her smile disappeared at the thought of the city commander. The man had upset her when he told her that he had shared the bed with her slave. She didn't like anything like that. In other circumstances, she would have punished the girl.  
The commander had apologized to her for his behaviour, and since she owed him a lot, she had accepted it.  
Damaris, on the other hand, was able to avoid a penalty, as she was the only slave still in her service, along with Ashur.

She hoped that the clean-up work in her home would begin soon. Then she would return home, even if it would be very lonely there at the beginning.   
She sighed, because she did not yet know what to do with her financial situation.

Lucretia knew that she desperately needed to find a slave who understood accounting and finance. Above all, she had to be able to rely on his loyalty. She wasn't sure how much she could trust Ashur.  
Should she continue to train gladiators? This would be very unusual for a widowed woman. Had there ever been such a thing? In addition, she had to find new slaves suitable for training.   
One of their gladiators was in the prison of the headquarters. But he had never been the best fighter. It was also in the stars whether he would ever recover from his injury to the point where he could fight again.   
He had also been one of those who had betrayed her and her husband.  
No, it would be left to the city commander. The same was true of her other slave, Pietros. The two were no longer available to her.   
Shortly, she got a bite of conscience. Pietros had probably saved her child's life…  
She pushed those thoughts away. Presumably because of her pregnancy, she even thought about it. 

Unfortunately, a survey of the former slave from the kitchen had not yielded any results. He probably didn't know too much. In addition, Aurelius, who was commissioned to be interviewed, exaggerated and broke the boy's nose.  
Lucretia had met Aurelius briefly and found him to be a very unpleasant person.

  
"Damaris, clean my hair," she asked the young girl, and gave her a brush.   
She thought with wistfulness of the beautiful wigs that were in her villa. Anyway, she hoped they were still there.   
But the gladiators certainly had no interest in it and took it with them. What are they supposed to do with it?  
Lucretia put a hand on her belly. She wasn't really sure, but since yesterday she thought the child was going to start stirring. She smiled. The midwife the commander had brought for her had told her that this was a very good sign. 

Apparently the child was doing well.

  
**Capua Market Square**

As always, there was a lot of activity in the market square of Capua. The merchants had set up their stalls and offered their goods. As always, people had come from near and far and walked among the stalls.  
The city guard had slightly increased its presence, but it did not disturb the people. After all, there had been a terrible crime of late.  
Some market-goers regretted the killings, while others were a little mischievous that it had hit one of the rich.  
"They were always arrogant," said one woman, who chatted with her friends, whom she probably met at the market every week. The other women agreed. "It didn't hit the wrong people.  
Some market goers were saddened that the gladiators would no longer participate in the arena games.  
Still others, mostly slaves, preferred not to comment on the incident, especially if their Dominus or their Domina had gone to the market with them to look for pretty goods or meet friends.

This was also the case with the young woman, who wore an elegant wig of blond hair. Her dress was an elegant everyday dress that emphasized her high status. She was accompanied by some of her slaves. A young girl, probably her body enclave, accompanied her and looked at the warm skins of a trader.  
"They are warm, they will do a good service to my dear husband on his long journey," the noble woman said kindly of the merchant as her slave waved to one of the other companions. "We take three of them. And then we get a new coat for my two sisters, their husbands and our parents.   
Two other men, they wore a coat because of the still cool weather, took what they bought and then followed their Domina to leave the market.  
Three other men apparently had a severe cold and also wore a coat and scarf that half-covered their faces. Apparently they didn't want to infect anyone with a coughing fit.  
A trader who sold her vegetables took good note of this. He was often coughed up by customers and annoyed about it every time.  
Who knew what diseases people were suffering from?  
Behind the men was another young woman, believed to be accompanied by her husband. They also bought fruit and vegetables.  
The retailers who sold groceries were particularly pleased on that day.  
Three other noble ladies, with pretty coats over their clothes and high hair, probably wigs, were accompanied by their slaves. The ladies also bought warm and beautiful clothes, while their slaves took them to bring them home for their dominas. The women were also accompanied by strong men, apparently bodyguards.  
Well, that was understandable. After all, times were very uncertain and it was safer for noble young Roman women if they did not go on the market without protection.  
A Roman soldier looked at one of the men a little suspiciously, but one of the young women smiled at him so kindly that he would rather smile back than take care of the grim man.

  
Yes, on that day the traders were happy about a good deal, while a larger group of escaped gladiators and house slaves rejoiced in warm clothes and fresh food when they met again at the agreed meeting point.  
The young women pulled the wigs they had found in the rooms of their Domina from their heads, but continued to wrap themselves in the coats they had found there. The clothes from the villa, the wigs and especially the warm coats that once belonged to Lucretia had served their purpose.  
Especially the money found in the villa had proved useful.

**POV Duro**

With the help of medicus, Duro sat down a few days later and the man stuffed two pillows into his back. He was still in pain, but these had become a little more bearable. He wondered if this was because of the brew that the Medicus gave him regularly.  
If it helped, he didn't mind drinking it, even if it tasted disgusting. He wanted to say thank you, but the Medicus did not respond to his words. Apparently he had no interest in talking to him.  
Duro had many questions. And the one who employed him the most asked him now, although he did not expect an answer.  
"Am I the only one? Are there any others here? Is my brother here? His name is…"

The Medicus raised a hand. "I'm not going to answer any questions. I am there to take care of your wound. Otherwise I have nothing to do with you!“  
All previous attempts to ask questions had been fended off in this way. Perhaps it was also a mistake to mention Agron's name at all. Wasn't it to be feared that the Medicus would tell the commander? But something told him that Alexios would do nothing like that. He hoped that he would not be deceived by his assessment.In the last few days, the Medicus was satisfied with the healing of his wound, even if Duro felt it differently. He still felt so weak and tired and as soon as he sat, he became dizzy.   
Every change of bandages was painful and the sight of his sewn wound was abhorrent.

The Medicus still seemed to be worried that possible injuries inside could lead to deterioration or perhaps even death, despite the man's contented look at the outer sight of the sewn skin.

In the meantime, he missed his brother more than ever. Until now, there had been barely a day in his life when they had been separated.   
They had been close, although Duro had sometimes wished that Agron trusted him a little more and cared a little less about him.  
Now he narrowly missed him, although he hoped Agron would be free. The idea that he was in a prison cell and perhaps mistreated was unbearable for Duro.

It was better that he was alone in this place. 

  
He also wondered how his brother had to endure the separation. Did Agron know where he was? Or did he think he was dead? This would make his brother despair. Conversely, it would have been the same.

"I don't want to know anything!" said Alexios, then abruptly closed his mouth as if he had already spoken too much.

  
Duro wondered if the doctor was always behaving like this towards the sick and injured. Or was it because he was a prisoner who would soon exchange the Medicus treatment room for a prison cell?

  
He had, of course, already thought of fleeing. This would certainly be easier to do from the premises where he was now than from a cell. But he feared that in his current state he could not even take three steps without collapsing unconscious.  
The Medicus apparently thought similarly, because there was only one guard who sat in the hallway in front of the treatment room and kept watch.

Duro had seen him sitting there when the Medicus entered the room.  
The soldier had greeted the Medicus kindly and he had even exchanged a few words with him and made a joke.

So it was probably due to Duro's status as a prisoner that the doctor was so quiet.

But the doctor's behavior was to become a side issue, for now steps were heard on the aisle in front of the door and then two men in Roman armor entered the room and the Medicus greeted one of them as a "commander".

  
So it was probably Drusus, the city commander.

  
"As I see, he is awake and able to sit. Well. Then I will ask my questions!" said the commander, and the other man looked at Duro almost hatefully.  
But to his surprise, the Medicus disagreed, while Duro was already trying to arm himself for an unpleasant interrogation.

"It's too early... and what does Aurelius want here?"

  
The Medicus looked at the second man, apparently Aurelius, almost furiously. "Here in these rooms my rules apply. He has nothing to look for here."  
"He's here on my orders," said the city commander. "You can leave the room while I ask my questions!"

The Medicus seemed to want to contradict, but then left the room and closed the door behind him.

Duro was left alone with the city commander and the soldier named Aurelius.

The next hour was the blackest since Duro's injury.

Duro barely answered a question the commander asked him. He only confirmed what the man already knew. Unaware that his gladiatorial brothers were also in captivity, he did not want to testify, which put one of them in even greater danger.

  
Yes, there had been an uprising. Yes, he too had fought against the guards in the Ludus, had been injured in the process. Who else was there?   
Duro did not respond. Could he have said that Agron fought alongside him? 

  
It probably wouldn't have made any difference, because the commander said that the names of the escaped galdiators were known anyway. Finally, there were corresponding documents in the house of the slain Batiatus.

  
Escaped Galdiators? This raised hope in Duro.

  
He eventually wanted to know if there were any more prisoners, but he was sure that Commander Drusus would not answer any questions.  
Above all, he had to know whether Agron was one of the possible prisoners.

  
"Why do you ask me? I was injured and I don't know anything. Ask the other prisoners," he said, receiving the hoped-for answer, even if it did not happen in a pleasant way.  
Aurelius roughly grabbed his hair and looked like he was spitting in his face. "You and this slave from the kitchen are our only prisoners! And that's why you'll tell us everything you know! No one will escape us, we will capture and punish them all. With death! Without exception!"

  
Commander Drusus seemed to notice that Aurelios had answered more questions to the prisoner than the other way around, and he pushed him aside before punching Duro in the face.

  
His patience was apparently over. 

  
Duro thought that his brother had probably already given insulting curses to the commander, and Aurelios in particular, without worrying about the consequences.

  
"Who is your leader?" Drusus asked him. "Spartacus? We have the information from Lucretia, the wife of Lanista. Luckily, she survived... but you probably don't like it."  
Duro was silent. Apparently, Drusus already knew or suspected what role Spartacus had played in the uprising. And he hadn't thought about whether Lucretia had survived or not. 

  
Drusus nodded to Aurelius, and he seemed to have waited only for such a sign.

  
He grabbed Duro's connected wound and his hand pressed the skin, which was sensitive there. "What will happen if I reopen it?"

  
Duro tried to push Aurelius away from him, while the pain almost darkened him.

  
"Tell us where they went. Where are they hiding?" asked Drusus, who held the arms of the already weakened prisoner in the and prevented him from defending himself against Aurelius. "Answer our questions.“

  
Duro fought against the desire to answer the questions, because Aurelius pushed his wound even tighter and the pain threatened to become unbearable.

There was actually something he could have said…

  
He knew no concrete plans, much had remained vague, but Spartacus had talked about the fact that there could be refuge in the capua sewer system. Maybe they would go there, maybe they were already there. Perhaps the plans had also been changed. 

  
He also knew that Spartacus had a great hatred for Glaber. Maybe he would try to take revenge on him. He had good reasons for doing so.  
But Duro didn't want to reveal anything. Neither about the sewers nor about the fact that Spartacus could have plans for Glaber. Then there was Crixus. He would definitely be looking for Naevia…

  
Duro hoped that he could hold on to his intention not to reveal anything.

  
"We're supposed to try the whip, it makes almost everyone talk. And we have other options," Aurelios said, and Duro knew he probably wouldn't survive if it did happen.  
He hoped that the two men would not notice his fear...

On Drusus Wink Aurelius Duro finally let go and now he tried differently. He did not seem to rely on torture, at least for now.

"Why don't you help us? This could be beneficial for you. Your death would be much easier, maybe you would even stay alive..." said Drusus, now saying something that concerned Duro more than the pain Aurelius had inflicted on him.

  
"They didn't take care of you. They didn't bother to take you if you were hurt. Your friends have let you down. You were indifferent to them, and they didn't care what happened to you!" said Drusus, and the words were like a slap in the stomach.

  
Drusus continued. "They have brought themselves to safety without you. Probably none of them waste saofout even a single thought to you!"

  
"They thought I was dead," said Duro, who knew Agron had not left him alone. He couldn't and wouldn't believe that. Not for a moment.  
But Drusus continued to speak. "Are you sure?"

  
Aurelius unexpectedly dealt him a blow to his wound and Duro screamed. He saw that the bandage was bloody.

  
The door was ripped open and the Medicus entered the room. His gaze fell on the blood on the bandage. "Enough is enough now! I thought he should stay alive?"

  
Drusus nodded and grabbed Duro's arm roughly. "Think of what I told you, and then consider whether you owe Spartacus and the others anything at all."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter. Lucretia needs new slaves. There are newcomers and she returns home.Things are different for her than in the series because she is in a different state. In the next chapter it is Pietro's turn again. And many thanks to my faithful reader Goddess of the arena. Thanks to you, writing is much more fun.

**Duro POV**

  
To Duro's relief, Commander Drusus and Aurelius, who gave him an angry look, left the room. He stayed with Alexios and the soldier in the door frame, who at the moment had the task of guarding him and protecting the Mediucs.

The Medicus loosened the bandage and shook his head. He muttered something incomprehensible and seemed visibly upset. He wiped the blood away and pressed the wound.

Of course, it was painful, albeit far less bad than the handle of the cursed Aurelius, who wanted to inflict as much pain as possible on him.

"Not..." Duro pleaded, but the Medicus ignored the request. He continued the necessary treatment of the wound.

Eventually, he reconnected the wound, although he was not very gentle. At that moment, Duro cursed not only Aurelius, but also the Medicus in his head with all the insulting names that came to his mind.

While Duro vowed not to leave anyone near his wound again, the Medicus seemed content.

"I had feared worse. But again, something like this shouldn't happen," he said matter-of-factly, and Duro stared at him furiously. "I definitely didn't want that. This damn roman bastard…"

The Medicus interrupted him. "You shouldn't offend anyone here. This does not make anyone any friendlier to you."

If I don't insult anyone, no one is kind to me. You don't even talk to me most of the time!" contradicted Duro, and as expected, the Medicus turned away and did not respond to the young man's words.

"I know you're not talking to me. But I have only one question for you," Duro finally asked, and he was ashamed of the sad undertone in his voice. He didn't want to be a coward. But he felt very tired and his pain made him suffer again.

To his surprise, the Medicus did not even react unkindly. He, too, seemed tired. "What do you want to know?"

"As... I was found... Did they think I was dead?" he asked, and Alexios looked at him almost sadly. "I found you. There were several deaths, and I thought you were one of them. I had to look several times until I realized you were still alive. I'm still wondering about it. I have seen such wounds many times, in war. Sometimes a soldier is brought in with such an injury. Most of the time, I can't do anything about it. Aureliu's friend, probably the only one he ever had, was similarly hurt. He was dead. That he is dead and you have survived is probably another reason for Aurelius to hate you. Although he usually doesn't need a reason for it. He loves to torture prisoners."

"So I was lucky?" asked Duro quietly. "And he also thought I was dead…"

By the latter he meant his brother. Agron had also assumed he was dead. He had not let him down.. Duro was ashamed of the silent doubt that Drusus had aroused in him.

How had he allowed this doubt? He knew his brother Agron. If he knew that his little brother had survived, he would not hesitate to come to him, regardless of any dangers.

He vowed never to allow such doubts again or to believe anything that this commander or one of his men told to him.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Alexios said. "And I shouldn't talk to you. If I first thought you were dead, your comrades must have done the same. But as far as happiness is concerned... I doubt it is lucky to survive here in prison…

The Medicus presented Duro with a cup of hot liquid. "Drink this. Water with a few herbs. Against the pain."

Then he left the room in silence and left Duro with the soldier sitting on a stool and following his own thoughts.

Lucretia POV

Lucretia stepped onto her balcony and let the gaze wander. She was finally back home and fortunately the clean-up had progressed well.  
Of course, all the dead had been removed. 

  
Shortly after her husband's horrific death, she arranged a proper burial for him. This had happened when she was still in the headquarters of the city guard and was recovering from her wound.

  
Basically, she could be satisfied with the condition of her villa. The floors had been scrubbed and the blood on the walls and furniture had also disappeared.

  
Unfortunately, the escaped slaves had not contented themselves with simply saving their skin. A lot had been stolen. Several of the caskets in which her husband had kept his coins had been emptied and some clothes had disappeared.

  
In particular, these thieves had been looking for warming clothes, but also their husband's tunics, some of her most beautiful clothes and wigs had disappeared. The latter particularly hurt her. But as a grieving widow, was it still appropriate to wear her hair in striking colours? 

  
She wore a dark dress and a brown wig to match a widow. Still, she was happy with her looks. 

  
She looked into the distance. It wasn't just about losing their belongings. She missed her husband and would have liked to have him by her side. She would never forgive his killer.

  
Inside, she swore a terrible and agonizing death to the one who ultimately dealt him the fatal blow.

  
Her thoughts went from her husband Quintus to her friend Gaia, who she had also lost. Even though this loss was a long time ago, she still often thought of her girlfriend.  
Gaia, too, had found an undeserved end. She would have needed her support and affection now. The friend would surely have been there for her now that she was a widow. They could have mourned For Quintus together.

  
"Gaia, I miss you," she whispered softly.

  
She believed the child was moving back in her belly.

  
Her and Crixus' blood. But still the son of Quintus. She would raise the child in the spirit of her husband. Who would her son resemble? Most of the time, she thought of a boy with her child.  
Still, she knew it could be a girl.  
She put a hand on her belly and smiled. "If you're a girl, I have a nice name for you..." she thought, as a breath of fresh air arose.

Lucretia left the balcony and went to the villa. 

It was so much quieter than it used to be, even if she wasn't quite alone. She had summoned all her slaves, and they stood before her when she looked at her and instructed her in her new responsibilities.

First there was Damaris, who after initial difficulties had proved quite adept at helping her domina in personal matters. The girl always seemed a little sad and seemed to have a bad conscience because of something. Is she grieving for Drusus? Did she expect more from him? That was stupid.  
But as long as Damaris did her work properly, Lucretia was indifferent.

In addition to Ashur, who made a dissatisfied impression, were the three new slaves she had bought on the market shortly before returning to her villa.

Cornelius, an older man who had lived as a slave since childhood, was originally from Gaul. He had lived in the household of a rich Roman and spent years taking care of the finances of his Dominus there. Apparently he was so satisfied that he had promised to give Cornelius freedom.

  
The sudden death of Dominus prevented this. His heirs had sold Cornelius. Apparently, he had accused her of wasting the legacy of the late Dominus and stealing it from the rightful heir, a nephew of the long widowed and childless man.

  
Lucretia liked the fact that he had worked so hard for his dead Dominus.

  
Cornelius had already begun to look through the documents of Lucretia's beloved Quintus.

  
He and Lucretia had therefore had serious discussions. He advised her to be careful with her assets, as it was not certain what would happen in business terms. What was available in terms of wealth should be spared as much as possible.

  
Ashur did not seem satisfied that Cornelius was now taking on these tasks, but Lucretia did not elaborate. In her view, Ashur had no reason to complain about anything. Nor did he. But she noticed his dissatisfaction. 

  
But that didn't weigh too much on her. After all, she gave Ashur far more freedom than others. He still left her villa regularly and she didn't know where he was going. She would not have allowed her other slaves.

  
Moreover, she was his dominaban, and the last thing she would ever do was to justify herself with a slave. If she ordered him to wipe the floors and wash her clothes in the future, he would do just that. 

  
Even if it had been a waste of his skills.

  
Other new slaves in her house were Lenya and Liria. Lenya was a woman in her thirties. She, too, had previously served a rich dominadiem and was responsible for the kitchen there. Liria, a young woman who was slightly older than Damaris, came from the same household.

  
Lucretia had bought the younger woman to do housework. She hoped that Lenya could replace Leticia in some way in the kitchen.

  
For the time being, these few slaves had to suffice. She initially wanted to wait until Cornelius had fully reviewed her finances. In addition, there were soldiers of the city guard who were supposed to grant their protection from another attack, but this would only be a temporary measure, since Drusus could not permanently renounce the men.

  
So she would soon have to look for good bodyguards. Former Galdiator Ashur could still fight in an emergency, although his old injury did not bring him any closer to his former abilities. 

  
His fighting ability was beneficial. Still, she needed bodyguards.

  
"I expect loyalty. Then I will be a just domina," she said to her old and new slaves. "You will not have a bad life. But I expect unconditional obedience."  
Lenya, Liria, Damaris and Cornelius lowered their gaze. Lucretia smiled. Well, they obviously knew where their place was.   
Ashur also stood peacefully next to the other slaves. He had been impeccable towards her and had not tried to harm her. 

At least she accepted it and knew nothing else.

There was a strong reason why she depended on loyal subordinates and, in particular, trusted bodyguards. It wasn't just about their fear of a possible new attack.  
She had not forgotten Ilithyia's role in the gladiatorial raid on her house. Without them, more people could surely have escaped. Perhaps Quintus would have survived.  
Unfortunately, she was only too aware that she could do nothing about Ilithyia and especially her husband. If she became too uncomfortable and played the few trump cards she still had in her hand, it could well happen to her that the two, especially Ilithyia, would deal with her elimination.

As a widow expecting a child, she was much more insecure than when she had her husband by her side.

  
The thought of Ilithyia was almost unbearable. She hated her at least as much as Crixus and the one who killed her husband. She hoped she wouldn't see this woman and her husband for the time being. 

There was a danger that she would try to scratch Ilithyia's eyes.

  
The problem that she needed bodyguards, she also discussed with Cornelius that evening, when he showed her some documents about her finances. "I need trustworthy men to rely on," she said, without giving the exact reasons.  
Cornelius nodded sympathetically and seemed to think for a moment before speaking. 

"Domina, maybe I should propose someone," he said, and she wanted to listen to that proposal at least once.

„Speak, Cornelius," she asked him to speak.

"My Dominus was a just man. I have served him for most of my life and wanted to defend his fortune even after his death. He actually wanted his favorite nephew to be his inheritance, but other relatives had something against it..." Cornelius began, and Lucretia interrupted him.

"I know. And you have tried to defend the legacy of your dead Dominus, so that his last will may be fulfilled and that the relatives may not waste it."

Cronelius nodded. "Yes. But I just defended his legacy. His bodyguard Matay even defended his body. He was always very loyal and saved him at least twice from bandits who wanted to attack him. Once my Dominus was attacked by a wild dog and Matay walked in with her bare hands in between. He was trained as a bodyguard after being unable to be a domestic slave. He was too disobedient…"

Lucretia's curiosity faded. A disobedient bodyguard was not what she was looking for. 

Nevertheless, she allowed Conelius to continue. "He was only a boy at the time, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Matay was not long a slave, he had previously lived in freedom in his homeland. Nor did he allow himself to be forced into obedience by beatings. His then Dominus wanted to sell him in the mines when my Dominus came from Rome and visited him.

They were old friends and my Dominus bought Matay for little money. It was a good deal for his former owner, he got more money than if he had sent him to the mines. Marcu... My Dominus brought him to Rome to train him as a bodyguard. That was thirteen years ago."

"And he was really loyal?" asked Lucretia suspiciously. "He was not outrageous and disobedient?"

Cornelius shook his head with a smile. "No. At first he tried to escape, he was caught again and my dominus did not punish him. The boy had not expected this. Matay had injured his leg while fleeing and my Dominus had his wound treated.

The older man smiled sadly and Lucretia came to the conclusion that his late Dominus Cornelius must have meant a lot.

"There was a reason why we served our Dominus faithfully," Cornelius continued. "He treated us with kindness and appreciated our work. Never have any of us been mistreated or forced into anything in his bedroom. After the initial difficulties and after completing his training, Matay became a good bodyguard. Then he successfully defended our Dominus several times. Once someone sent an assassin. He wanted to stab our Dominus in his garden. Matay overpowered the man, even though he was a good fighter. We never really found out, but we always suspected that the greedy relatives had sent him to bring our Dominus to the grave prematurely."

Lucretia liked that Cornelius spoke very respectfully of "our Dominus". His facial expression also indicated that he thought the attack was a personal insult. She liked that too. She hoped that he would serve her just as faithfully. 

In addition, she began to take an interest in this Matay.

"What happened to him? And what about the fact that he was defending his dead Dominus?" she asked, and a painful expression appeared on the older slave's face.

Apparently, events had caused him great sorrow.

"Mar.... my dead Dominus lay on his bed“, said Cornelius. „He wore his best clothes and his favorite jewelry. This included a valuable ring. He was supposed to go to his favorite nephew after the funeral. Then his other relatives stormed the villa. I know I shouldn't speak like that. But my Dominus has always done it. He didn't like his relatives. He had even bought a house here in Capua to distance himself from his family. Therefore he died here and not in his house in Rome. He had only moved here a month before his death. His two sisters, their husbands and his only brother and sons, behaved abhorrently when they attacked the dead. They must have started the journey from Rome to Capua at great speed after learning of his death."

  
The memory seemed to make Cornelius really sad and angry. He clenched his hand on his fist as he continued to speak.

  
"They ripped the jewelry from his body and one of his nephews took the ring and said it was valuable and would bring in good money. Then Matay intervened. He ripped the ring out of the man, an experienced soldier, even pulled his sword and drove the whole family out of the bedroom. He left none of them near the corpse and also made sure that the favorite nephew got the ring. The young man came later than his relatives. There has been controversy. In the end, he could not prevail, his whole family stood up to him.

Matay at least protected him from physical assault by his uncles and cousins."

  
Lucretia was impressed. "But have the relatives tolerated this?"

  
Cornelius shook his head. "Unfortunately not. They called the city guard and a day later Matay was arrested and is now in prison. Even when he was arrested, he fought back successfully, but eventually he was overwhelmed after receiving a blow to the head. Cornelius' nephew couldn't do anything about it. He even wanted to give us freedom and thus fulfill his uncle's last will. But the family prevailed."

  
Giving freedom? Lucretia did not want to hear about this nonsense.

  
Lucretia thought for a moment. "Who trained him as a bodyguard?" she asked, wanting to know more.

  
"The previous bodyguard of my Dominus. He was a liberated gladiator named Mercurius and then entered the service of my Dominus. He had won his freedom in Rome. Unfortunately, he passed away four years ago. He became ill, severe pain in the abdomen and fever, and died within a few days. The Medicus, after which my Dominus sent immediately, said that it was due to a disease on his right side of the abdomen. He couldn't do anything. Mercurius was a good man and treated Matay almost like a son," Cornelius said, and he seemed depressed by the death of the former gladiator.

  
„Matay has learned a lot from him. Until Mercurius' death, they served together as bodyguards. One of Matay's advantages is that he is often underestimated by his opponents. He is a little smaller than many men and even the bandits who attacked my Dominus at night on the way home in the streets of Rome thought they had an easy game with him. In the end, four of them lay dead on the ground, the others fled."

  
Lucretia was interested in this Matay. But it was still inconclusive. Would this man defend them with his life if necessary? She liked the idea that Matay threw an assassin off the cliff. She also liked the idea that he did this with Ilithyia. 

  
On the other hand, there was a danger that Matay would cut her throat at night in her sleep and escape. After all, he had initially proved to be a disobedient slave, and he had already been promised freedom.

  
Nevertheless, she was interested in him…


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietros gets company in his cell. And there is a brief glimpse into the lives of some rebels.

**POV Pietros**

Pietros did not know exactly how long he had been locked in his cell. Were they days or weeks? Time passed monotonously and a certain routine set in. In the morning, his daily ration of water and bread was brought to his cell. Every now and then there was a terrible-tasting broth. In this case, Pietros always wonders whether it was actually food or an execution method.  
A few days he was very lucky and when he awoke, he discovered an apple that someone had put through the bars. Pietros did not know who gave him the fruit.   
Aurelius certainly wasn't.  
Alexios, the Medicus, had not entered his cell because Pietros' slight burns to his hands had healed. Even the broken nose healed slowly, although he still mostly avoided touching it.  
Pietros sometimes saw Alexios passing his cell. Presumably he was looking for other injured prisoners.

He did not know how many other people were held captive in the dungeon. Some of them were certainly real criminals who were exactly where they belonged.   
Twice before, he had shared his cell with another prisoner for a short time.  
The first time it was a thief and the second time it was a forger. Both had been taken out of the cell after only half a day. Pietros did not know what had become of the men.

In the morning, two guards had dragged a young woman, apparently an escaped slave, down the aisle. She had cried and resisted.   
Pietros had pityed her.  
From conversations of the guards in the hallway in front of his cell, he learned that there have been frequent attempts of rebellious slaves to escape lately. It was apparently not the first time the young woman had tried to flee.

To his relief, he was spared further interrogations by Aurelius. He wondered why, even if he did not want to see the cruel Roman again. Were they satisfied with his sparse statements? Would he eventually be taken out of that cell to be executed?   
This idea frightened him. He didn't want to die.   
He had the faint hope that he was too unimportant to attract further attention.

Pietros looked up when the cell door opened. Several soldiers dragged a man who was fiercely resisting. Blood ran over his face, and while a soldier pressed Pietro to the side, the other soldiers chained the prisoner to the wall.  
""Society for you!" said the soldier who had pushed Pietros aside. "It gradually becomes full in the cells. This gladiatorial uprising brings the slaves in the area to stupid ideas."  
The chained man, meanwhile, violently kicked another soldier against his shin. The man stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. At the last moment, one of his comrades caught him.  
Pietros already feared that the soldiers would now storm the man to beat him up. He had clenched his hands to fists and seemed ready to defend himself even though he was chained.  
"We have to take care of the other prisoners. We should create space. That's why we brought him here from the other cell!" said one of the men to his comrades. "If we don't finish in time, the commander will personally send us into the underworld."  
The soldiers left the cell and locked the door. Pietros saw that one of the men rubbed his cheek. Apparently he had been beaten there by Pietros` new cellmate.

The other prisoner, meanwhile, sat down on the floor and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, as far as the chains allowed him.  
Pietros saw that his cellmate was sitting on the cold stone floor and folded the ceiling that Alexios had given him.  
.  
"Gratitudes," he said, and Pietros took a closer look at him.

"Thankfulness," he said, and Pietros looked at him more closely.  
"They seem to be afraid of you," he said, and the man grinned at him. "I would like to hope so. They hit me on the head when I was arrested. Once again, they will not succeed."  
Pietros pointed to a bleeding wound on the man's forehead. "What about that? Apparently they did it again."  
The prisoner's smile disappeared. "I was still asleep when they grabbed me. One of them hit my head against the wall. I was inattentive. This should not happen."  
Pietros dripped a little water from the jug, in which he received his daily ration on a dirty rag with which he had once cooled his broken nose, and handed it over to his new cellmate.  
Gratefully, the man took the rag and wiped the blood from his forehead. Pietros, meanwhile, sat on the straw.

"What's your name? And why are you in this wonderful place?" the man asked with a mocking smile.  
"My name is Pietros. I was a house slave and there was a gladiatorial uprising..." Pietros replied, and the other nod. "Of course we have heard about it, it scared my Dominus just before his death."  
"Did you want to flee?" asked Pietros, and the man, probably a few years older than Pietros, shook his head. "No. I would not have fled and had protected my Dominus as best I could, from all dangers, even from escaped gladiators."  
Pietros looked at the other people affected. "So a friend of the Romans? But you're not one of them... and you are a slave…"  
In fact, the man did not look like a Roman. His skin was darker and his hair black, although he wore it very short and thus resembled a Roman.  
"No, I am Syrian, not a Roman," the man now confirmed Pietros presumption. "And I am not a friend of the Romans. I was a friend of my late Dominus. That is a difference. Or I would have been his friend if I had not been his slave."  
"And what is your name? What brought her to this prison?" Pietros repeated the questions that the man had asked him before.  
"My name is Matay. I was a bodyguard. It is thanks to the greedy siblings of my former Dominus that I am here now," the man replied, sounding bitter once. "Damn money greedy pack…"  
Pietros remembered another Syrian and the memory was not pleasant. "We had a Syrian gladiator. Later he did other work for my Dominus. His name is Ashur."  
Matay shrugged. "I don't know any Ashur. The name doesn't tell me anything. I don't know all the Syrians in the world. You don't seem to like him?"  
Pietros agreed with the latter, without going into further detail. "No, I don't like him."

  
**Capua Market Square**

  
**POV Iras**

Iras carried a basket of vegetables and followed Mira as she stopped at a booth. Warm blankets were sold there. Iras smiled, her companion, who had taken on the role of a noble Roman lady, thought of Letitia.  
The old woman rejoiced at night in the sewer and had expressed the desire for a warming blanket, even though she already had one.  
Meanwhile, Letitia seemed to get used to the new situation. At first the old woman had been very unhappy and she had even lost a little weight. Iras had to persuade her to eat something.  
To Iras's great relief, the old woman had now recovered somewhat after she had to leave her well-equipped kitchen, where she had been the unrestricted ruler, to live under gladiators and other slaves in the sewer. The men treated her with respect and she had started with what she knew best.   
She tried, as best she could, to prepare food for comrades in the circumstances.  
A smile slid over the young woman's smile. Letitia even tried to teach the gladiators a little better behavior. She had been swearing at the men several times when a curse escaped them. Unfortunately, she had left her cooking spoon in the villa. Iras suspected that Letitia would otherwise have used it to beat gladiators on the fingers.  
Letitia also took special care of Iras. After all, she was the only one of her young protégés who had stayed with her. That is why Letitia had taken note of it with a frown when Iras had expressed the intention to learn archery. She thought it wasn't for a girl.   
But on this point Iras had contradicted the old woman. Letitia had finally given her blessing, especially since Mira had also supported the wish of the younger ones.

"We still need needles and yarn, some clothes were torn when the soldiers were attacked the day before yesterday," Iras said softly to Mira, who was standing in front of her.  
She herself had taken on the role of Mira's slave. She was happy with that. Iras thought Mira played the heavier role, although she looked enchanting with Lucretia's blonde wig and pretty dresses, and the merchants treated her with great respect.  
Or was it because of the two bodyguards who accompanied them? They were dressed in simple coats with hoods, but every trader with fraudulent intentions and any potential thief who could look for the money of the rich Roman woman realized what task they were doing.

Suddenly Iras stopped and Rabanus, who had taken on the role of one of the bodyguards, almost came across her.  
"What's going on?" he asked quietly.

  
"Stay with Agron with Mira," Iras asked equally quietly. "I've seen someone. A girl from the kitchen... I have to talk to her…"

  
Rabanus did not want to object, but Iras had already contacted the girl, who was looking for jewellery a few stalls further.

  
It did not expect to meet Damaris in this market. What did she do here? She had not seen her since the day of the uprising and did not know what had happened to her.  
Iras was happy to see the other again. Before addressing them, she looked closely to see if there were any other familiar faces nearby. But Damaris actually seemed to be alone.  
"Damaris!" she said softly, reaching for the girlfriend's arm.

  
The young Greek woman drove around horrified, but then smiled visibly pleased. "Iras! They are doing well! But what are you doing here?"

  
Iras did not want to answer that question immediately. Before her visit to the market, Spartacus had once again asked her and the three others not to reveal too much to anyone and, above all, not to look up. 

  
Instead of answering the question, she asked herself questions. "Where were you? Letitia was worried about you, Lucillus and Pietros."

  
The other young woman's gaze became sad. "Lucillus is dead. He was found in his bed. Apparently he died peacefully. You can inform Letitia about it."  
Damaris looked around uncertainly. "I am in town with the dominaban and the new slaves. She herself has something to do. Apparently she wants to buy a bodyguard from a wealthy family. I have permission to choose a piece of jewelry.  
Iras couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "Lucretia gives you jewelry? And she goes unaccompanied? And why is she still alive? I've heard about it, but…"  
Damaris nodded, I'm doing other tasks now. Lucretia is satisfied with my work. During the rebellion, she was not as badly injured as you thought. Since then, it has largely recovered. She is not unaccompanied…"

The Greek was silent and Iras would have liked to keep asking, but time was pressing. They couldn't and didn't want to stay on the market for too long. So she asked another question about her and Letitia.

  
"What about Pietros?"

  
Damaris was silent and looked to the ground. The question seemed very unpleasant to her. That worried Iras.

  
"What happened to Pietros?" she asked again, while Damaris noticed the companions of Iras standing with the blankets at some distance.  
"These are two of the gladiators. And the woman... Mira...", Damaris said, and seemed increasingly uncomfortable.

  
Iras became impatient. Why did her boyfriend behave like this? Was she afraid of something? Had Pietros something so horrible happened that she didn't want to tell her?  
"What are you hiding from me?" asked Iras again, this time much more energetically. "You have to tell me."

Meanwhile, their companions apparently wanted to leave the market.

  
This was not the worst decision, as several soldiers made their way through the alleys of the stalls and pushed the market visitors aside, sometimes very crudely.  
Iras recognized the reason. The soldiers did not make a good impression. They looked like they had experienced a struggle. Most of them did not appear to have been seriously injured. But there were corpses wrapped in blankets on the backs of the horses. Apparently there had been deaths. 

  
Apparently the men were on their way to the headquarters. Had there been another clash with the gladiators?

  
"Pietros... now also works in the household of Lucretia. He helps the new chef in the kitchen and takes care of the plants," Damaris answered the question.

But somehow the Carthaginian couldn't believe it. Damaris was not a good liar.

  
Iras saw that Mira gave her a sign, and she turned to Damaris. "We have to go. Join us. You could come with us! The opportunity is good!"

  
Damaris seemed to think about this offer for a brief moment. But then she shook her head. 'I'm not feeling bad. Lucretia treats me well and I don't want to live a life on the run."  
She looked over to Rabanus and Agron. "They scare me…"

  
Iras became impatient. Of course, she could understand that Damaris was afraid of a life on the run. After all, this could end badly for them all. But was the alternative better?  
"You know what happened to Naevia. What do you want to do if Lucretia sells you? Or if you do something that you don't like, and you fall out of favor?" she asked, turning around to go. "I can't stay anymore. This is your chance. Please come with me!

  
But Damaris didn't want to hear about it. "No. I will not come with you. You live in a much greater danger than I do... and Pietros. He shares my opinion.... He and I will not arouse Lucretia's wrath…"

  
Iras turned away and rushed to her two companions. She would have liked to know more. But there was no time. Together with Mira and the two gladiators, she left the market as soon as possible. 

  
Her friend's decision hurt her. But it was her decision to prefer a life in the service of Lucretia. Still, she couldn't believe what Damaris had said about Pietros. It didn't suit him. 

But why should Damaris lie?

  
**Sewer of Capua**

Moments later, Iras Letitia put the warm blanket around her shoulders. The old woman smiled gratefully at the girl.   
"Mira chose her," said Iras, who was sitting next to Letitia, who was just finished preparing a sparse stew.   
"You can't compare that to my previous stews," said the cook with a sigh, but then smiled. "But it even seems to taste good to them. The food in the Ludus must have got worse and worse in recent years…"

  
Iras was glad that Letitia had found something she could do for the others, and the day before Spartacus thanked her for her efforts.

  
"Did there be another raid?" asked Iras. "We saw several injured soldiers in the marketplace. The others pushed people aside. Rabanus said he had just prevented Agron from beating one of them after he was pushed to the side.

  
Letitia sighed. "He needs to control himself more. I understand that he is grieving for his brother. But he could have put you in danger. And yes, there has been a raid. Spartacus and the others have also recently returned. Luckily, some of them only got a few scratches. The Romans seem to have fared worse."  
The cook filled a bowl with stew. "This is for Crixus. He is still a shadow of himself. I don't want him to starve until we find Naevia."

"Naevia's work is now taken over by Damaris," Iras said softly, and Letitia looked at the young woman inquiringly. "Damaris? Did you meet her?“  
Iras briefly reported on the meeting with Damaris. "She is still in the villa, with Lucretia. I asked her to come with me, but she didn't want to. Nor did I tell her where we were hiding. Ⅰ...... don't know if I can still trust her…"

  
Iras wiped his eyes. She would have liked to have had the friend by her side. Letitia, too, seemed sad. "Maybe their fear is really that great. She was always very anxious. Noise and rough people scare them. But I'm worried about them... What about the others? With Lucillus and Pietros?  
Iras stroked over the old woman's hand. "Lucillus is dead. But Damaris said it was probably a peaceful death. And Pietros also works for Lucretia. He supports the new chef in the kitchen and obviously doesn't want to have anything to do with us."

Letitia almost dropped the bowl with Crixus stew.

  
"Pietros? Of course, he can be forced to do so. He probably has no choice. But if you had met him on the market, he would probably have accompanied you when the opportunity was there. Especially if you had told him that Gnaeus is not here. Apparently he died like Florus, Duro, Hamilcar and the others we lack in the battles in the villa.   
She sighed and looked very sad at one point. "I'm not sorry for Gnaeus. He did too much to Pietros. But I regret the death of others. I didn't have much opportunity to meet Florus and Duro. They were far too young... just like my Rufus at the time."

  
Then she smiled. "At least Damaris and Pietros are still alive. I had already feared worse."

  
For a moment, the two women remained silent. Then Iras took the floor. "I had the feeling that Damaris did not tell me the truth when it came to Pietros. But I don't know the reason. If he had been dead, she could have told me. We have already heard that there were no survivors in the villa apart from Lucretia and some injured soldiers. Of course we would be sad. But she almost looked like she was blaming herself for something.…"

Letitia looked very thoughtful as she set out to bring Crixus the stew.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. This time from the point of view of Pietros. He gets more cellmates.

**POV Pietros**

Pietros just handed Matay the water jug when the door was opened. Two soldiers entered the cell. They supported a prisoner who struggled to stand on his feet, and then dropped him in the middle of the room.

Pietros took a closer look at the man and recognized him. It was Duro, the gladiator, who had been captured with him.

"We have injured people! You will not take away the place from them!" said one soldier, giving Duro a slight kick in the thigh. "The time at Medicus is over. You are one of the other prisoners."

Duro sat up and gave the soldier an angry look as he left the cell. Then he got up laboriously.

Pietros came to his aid and helped him to sit on the heap of straw.

"I know you," Duro said. "You also come from the house of Batiatus. I have sometimes seen you from a distance..."  
Pietros nodded. "Yes. I used to work at Ludus. Then in the kitchen."

"Pietros, right? I heard from you in Ludus," Duro replied, but then remained silent.

Pietros could already imagine what had been talked about in the Ludus. Presumably it was about the incident with Gnaeus. Surely Duro also knew the story of Barca and him. He probably assumed That Barca had left him. But that didn't matter now. Duro probably wasn't interested in the story, he didn't even know Barca.

  
Pietros only wondered if Duro had been a friend of Gnaeus…

  
Pietros pointed to Matay. "He used to be a bodyguard. His name is Matay."

Duro nodded at Matay, slipped back a little and leaned against the wall. He seemed exhausted and Pietros recalled that he was still recovering from a serious injury. It was covered with a simple short grey tunic he was wearing. Presumably he had got the clothes in the hospital rooms. He was not wearing shoes.

"You've been in the medicus' rooms so far," Pietros asked, and Duro nodded tiredly. "Until now. But then they brought the injured. An attack. They needed the place."  
He smiled. "But at least someone is talking to me here. Only Alexios, the Medicus, did that there sometimes."

Then his smile disappeared. "And Aurelius. He talked a lot when he came in the last few days. Most of the time he called me dirt, scum and murderer of his only friend…"

The memory of Aurelius was obviously not pleasant. The other prisoner's cheek was swollen and purple. Apparently Duro had similar experiences with Aurelius as Pietros.

  
"Then you met Aurelius. I owe him my broken nose," Pietros said.  
Then he turned to Matay. "Be glad you have nothing to do with him. I think he's the worst here."

Matay slipped into a more comfortable position. "It sounds like this Aurelius is someone I would better meet if I wasn't chained to a wall."

Noise could be heard in the hallway in front of the cells. Apparently, the soldiers drove a whole group of prisoners into the cells. Cursed slaves. Why commit these escape attempts? Why are they doing this?"

"So they had to make room in my previous cell. The prison is filled with escaped slaves," Matay said thoughtfully, addressing Pietros and Duro.

  
"Apparently you triggered an avalanche with your little rebellion. It will become clear what will become of it. Hopefully these people don't have to pay too much for their escape attempt," the Syrian added.

Pietros hoped that at least some slaves had managed to escape. 

In the meantime, Duro had closed his eyes. 

His skin was frighteningly pale.

Pietros hoped that the other prisoner had already recovered from his injury to the extent that he survived his stay in the cell. They hardly knew each other and had spoken the first words to each other that day. Nevertheless, they came from the same house and that created a connection.

A short time later, the door to the cell opened again, and this time the guards pushed a woman into the room. She appeared to be unconscious when she hit the ground.

The guards didn't seem to care, as they closed the door without caring for the apparently injured. She had long dark blonde hair and wore a simple green dress that was ripped in some places.

The guards didn't seem to care, as they closed the door without caring for the apparently injured. She had long dark blonde hair and wore a simple green dress that was ripped in some places.

Pietros lifted her up. It was light and petite, so he could easily carry it and finally lay it next to Duro on the straw heap. Duro had meanwhile sat up and bent over the new cellmate together with Pietros.

  
"Is she injured?" asked Matay.

  
"Yes," Pietros replied, looking more closely at the bruises on her arms. There was blood in the nose. Pietros hoped the bone was not broken. 

But the worst was the bruises on the neck and shoulders. These looked as if she had been beaten with an object there. Duro pointed to the collar she was wearing. It was perhaps a finger width thick and seemed to be made of bronze. 

"It can't be removed," Duro said softly.

Matay bent over a little. "I know these collars. I have seen this every now and then in Rome. They get slaves who tried to escape. They cannot be removed. Sometimes small plaques with the name of the Dominus are attached to them."

"Maybe it's better than having an F carved into the forehead or a burn in the middle of the face," Duro said, looking anxiously at the young woman's bruises. "Pietros, do you still have a little water? Maybe we can cool it down a little bit…"

Pietros nodded and handed Duro the wet rag with Matay's blood, which was still on it. "I'm sorry. We have nothing else. The Medicus should take care of this. But when he is busy with the wounded soldiers, he will have no time for them."

  
The young woman began to stir and sat down with a jerk. Frightened, she looked around. "What... Where.... the Romans…"

"We are surrounded by Romans, but here in the cell you will not meet any of them at the moment," Matay said.

She nodded uncertainly and remained suspicious. Pietros suspected that she felt uncomfortable as the only woman with three men. "You have nothing to fear from us," he said, smiling tentatively as he and Duro withdrew a little.

"Our names are Matay, Duro and I'm Pietros," he said.  
  
She gave her name. "I am Gallia. That's what my Dominus called me. I hate it when he calls me that!"

"And what's the real name?" asked Duro.

"Ania. But he calls me Gallia because of my background," she said angrily. "This disgusting.…"

She covered her face with disgust. Pietros thought she really had to hate her dominus.

"We will call you Ania," Duro promised, and she looked at him inquiringly. "Where do you come from? Please do not say about Germania. Your pronunciation sounds like another slave of my Dominus. She is German. She`s horrible. I don't like Germans…"

Duro grinned at her: "And I don't like Gauls."

"You're going to have to get along," Matay said, as someone screamed in the aisle. Apparently another prisoner was mistreated.

Meanwhile, Aina grabbed her neck and grabbed her collar. She pulled on it and terror spread in her face. Then they start crying. "Everyone sees what I am now. So I can never escape again…

Pietros did not know how to comfort her. Duro, on the other hand, apparently forgot, at least for the moment, his dislike of Gauls: "The tire can certainly be removed somehow, with a burn in the face it would be more difficult."

She sobbed. "I want to go home…"

She sounded like a frightened little girl, and Pietros wondered how old she was. He estimated them to be no more than sixteen or seventeen years. However, it was not the first time she had escaped, at least for a short time.

She sobbed again. "Surely my Dominus will soon send someone to pick me up. Or the soldiers bring me back to his villa. He is disgusting. He... is very fat and has a wound on the leg that is permanently inflamed. He wants me to take care of it. He stinks and eats all day, but he can't leave his bed anymore. He always stares at me and caresses my hair. He says it would be so nice. I'm afraid he'll want more from me at some point. But I can't."

She wiped away the tears defiantly. "But before it comes, I will kill him! I don't care what happens to me."

Pietros thought of Gnaeus and could understand the girl's desire to free herself from the man who frightened her. But such a thing would inevitably end with her own death.

The cell door was ripped open and Aurelius entered the cell along with two other soldiers.

"Look, the Ludus scum on a pile," he said, looking at Duro and Pietros as his companions grabbed and dragged Ania.

"It's time to return to your Dominus! He sent someone to pick you up!" said Aurelius, adding, addressed to Duro and Pietros; "I will take care of you both later. I have not forgotten you!"

Aina was pulled out of the cell, and Duro wanted to get up, but Pietros held him back. "What do you want to do?" he asked sadly. "Poor Ania. I hope it doesn't get so bad for them."

"So that was Aurelius," Matay said, and he looked like he was spitting on the ground.

The light that fell through the small cell window became noticeably weaker and it was already in the late afternoon.

Each of the prisoners hung on to his own thoughts. Duro lay curled up on the pile of straw and seemed to be in pain. Pietros urged him to drink the rest of the water after Matay also nodded in agreement. "He needs it the most…"

Pietros grabbed Duro's forehead and noticed it was warm.

"You have a fever! Probably not too high. Drink the rest," he said, and Duro accepted the offer thankfully, even if he didn't seem to feel quite comfortable with it. "But there is nothing left for you and Matay. And that with the fever is almost every day. In the evening it will be even worse. The Medicus thought that this could remain so for a while…"

This information did not really reassure Pietros. Then there was the news that Aurelius had not lost sight of her presence. At least they would probably get new water the next morning. That has always been the case.

Once again, the cell door was opened and four soldiers entered the room. This time Matay was her target.   
Four of them held him and put chains on his hands and feet before leading him out of the cell.  
"Your new domina awaits you. We'll bring you to her," said one of the men, while Matay looked at both cellmates. 

"I wish you as much luck as you can have in this place, at least you have a blanket for that night. Duro will need it if he has a fever. It's cold inside," he said, then turned to the soldier who had spoken to him.

"Who is my new Domina? One of the sisters of my late Dominus? Does she think I will protect her if she is attacked? I would open the door to an assassin!" he cursed as he was pulled from the cell.

The Roman soldier laughed briefly. "I don't know what the sisters of your dead Dominus are called. Her new Domina is the wife of the former Lanista Batiatus, Lucretia. And I would advise you not to repeat such words to them. Otherwise, you're back in your cell faster than you want.

  
Pietros could not sleep that night. It had never been easy for him to do this in the cell, but this time the noise that came to him kept him awake.

Again and again he heard curses or sobbing from the other cells. From time to time, a guard ordered the prisoners to be calm.

Moreover, Duro, lying next to him on the heap of straw, slept restlessly. He frightened and kicked away the blanket that Pietros had given him. Apparently it was too warm for him, perhaps because of the fever.

Pietros, on the other hand, froze. It was cold in the cell. This had been the case every night and probably wouldn't change until the weather outside got warmer. He wondered what had become of Aina and thought of Matay. 

He would now serve his former Domina. Pietros do not envy him, although Lucretia's house was certainly preferable to a prison cell.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We come to the next chapter. It's a quiet chapter. Lucretia has a new bodyguard and two prisoners make friends a little. I wish you a lot of fun reading and hope that you all survive the Corona crisis well.

**Lucretia**

  
It was already late in the evening and the stars were shining in the sky, while a crescent moon illuminated the darkness. A cold night was ahead of the people of Capua.   
Lucretia had settled on her sofa and was happy to rest after the long day in Capua. Damaris had served the dinner her new cook had prepared for her.

While she was ate, she devoted herself to her slaves.

  
In front of her stood Cornelius and her new bodyguard Matay. The guards had taken the chains from him and she was very satisfied with what she saw.   
He wasn't very big, but he had a well-trained body, and after what Cornelius told her, he was able to fend off a possible attacker. He was also attractive with his short-cut black hair and brown eyes. His skin was darker than that of the Romans. That her new bodyguard wasn't ugly was a nice encore. Only a few scars, which looked like the bite marks of an animal on the left arm, disturbed the overall picture a little.

  
She recalled that Cornelius had told her that Matay had protected his dominus from a biting dog. Maybe the scars came from it.

"Your name is Matay," she began the conversation, and he nodded, but did not answer.

  
"Good. I brought you to my home on the advice of Cornelius. I need the protection of a bodyguard. I hope you are up to the task," she said, and the man looked at her for a moment indignantly before regaining control of his facial features.  
"Of course I'm able to do that, domina," he said.

In any case, he did not seem to lack self-confidence. Well, that wasn't the worst. She needed protection and an unsafe bodyguard couldn't give her that. "We'll see. Cornelius will show you your accommodation. You both already know each other."

  
Cornelius nodded and Lucretia turned to Matay again. "If you serve me faithfully, you will not live badly here. You will have a good accommodation, food and you will accompany me when I leave this house."

  
She sighed inwardly. The price demanded for him by the family of his former Dominus had not been small. She hoped he was worth the money.  
She expected him to do his job properly and protect her.

**Duro**

Duro woke up in the early morning. He felt better than the night before, although the straw heap was not very comfortable. His pain was tolerable. It was cool in the cell and he pulled up the blanket.

  
He remembered throwing them away that night. Apparently Pietros had covered him up again.

  
The other lay with his back to him and had secured a small part of the blanket by himself.  
He heard voices from the other cells. Somewhere he heard someone crying. 

Duro ignored the stinging pain of his wound as he sat down. The Medicus had removed the threads by now, but warned him not to move too much. The skin was still sensitive and Duro feared that not everything was healed internally. He even endured the investigating hands of Medicus with difficulty.  
Unfortunately, Aurelius knew this weakness and he had visited him more often after this first interrogation. In addition to insults, he had struck him several times against his slowly healing wound while two soldiers held him.

  
At times Alexios had intervened, but the healing of his wound had probably been slowed by the blows. Once, the soldiers had to detain him again so that Alexios could investigate the damage. Touches at this point had been completely unbearable ever since.

  
Aurelius, despite Alexio's disapproval, had stood by and mocked Duro as a coward.

  
Since then, Duro had thought about what he would do with Aurelius if he ever had the opportunity to do so.

Near the door stood a jug and a bowl. Apparently it was the daily food ration. He and Pietros would have to get away with it. But there were worse. Even in the Ludus, the food had been bad.

  
Pietros, meanwhile, turned to the other side and Duro spread the blanket over the sleeping man before carefully getting up to fetch the jug with the water. He leaned against the wall with one hand and walked slowly to the cell door.

  
Once there, he sat down cautiously on the ground, hoping that the dizziness and nausea caused by the low effort would pass.  
He drank a sip of water and felt a little better.

  
By now Pietros had awoken and he sat down. His gaze fell on his fellow prisoner and he stood up. "Why didn't you say you want the water? I would have got it."  
"I didn't want to wake you up. I think I stopped you from sleeping last night.At some point I have to do it alone," Duro said as he grabbed Pietros` hand as he helped him get up.  
Pietros took the bowl with the smelly broth with the other hand and disgusted his face. "I hate that. I prefer the dry bread!"

  
"Better than nothing," Duro disagreed. "But you also know this from the Ludus. It was just as bad."

  
Pietros shrugged, while both were back on the straw pile. "I worked in Letitia's kitchen afterwards. I'm afraid I've been spoiled too much in that time. She would probably call this broth dirty cleaning water. Anyway, it smells like that."

  
Nevertheless, he ate a few spoons with the enclosed wooden spoon and then handed Duro the bowl. Duro, too, forced himself to eat something. They wouldn't get anything else that day.

  
Then he leaned back on the pile of straw and was annoyed that he could no longer stay on his feet or at least sit. "At some point, things will finally have to get better."  
Pietros gave him a compassionate look, and Duro noticed that he had spoken aloud.

  
"It takes a while," Pietros said. "I have seen some wounds in the Ludus. You too…"

  
Duro nodded and stared at the ceiling of the cell. He was probably too impatient. But he had a goal. Somehow he wanted to escape from this prison, and that probably only happened once he was physically able to do so.

  
He turned his head to Pietros. "Did you think about an escape?"

  
Pietros nodded. "I think everyone thinks about it when they come here. But I'm afraid there's no way. To do this, we would have to overwhelm the guards when they open the door. Then we have to get out of the building and then come across the courtyard to the gate. I don't know how many soldiers there are. But there are probably too many."  
He looked at the other with regret. "I'm afraid that a soldier would probably be one too many for me. I'm not a warrior, I'm not a gladiator. And you…

  
Pietros did not speak further, but it was not necessary. Duro knew too well what the other person wanted to say. It didn't help him that he had once been a warrior and a gladiator. 

  
At the moment he wasn't. 

  
He also had to secretly admit that, even in full health, he would not have been able to cope with all the soldiers. Not even gladiators like Spartacus or Crixus would do this alone, and certainly not him.

  
Still, he wasn't ready to give up so quickly. There had to be a way to escape.

"Do you know anything about the others?" he asked after a brief moment of silence.

  
"They escaped, as far as I know. We were, together with Ashur, the only prisoners," Pietros replied.

  
"Ashur? Crixus' enemy? He's in this prison too?" asked Duro.

  
Duro knew what Ashur Naevia had done and despised him for it, even though he himself was not a great friend of Crixus.

  
"No. The Domina told the commander that he was the most faithful of her servants," Pietros replied, and Duro heard the irony of each other's words.

  
"We are the only ones. I don't know what's happened since then and whether they've caught anyone. But I know to whom we both owe it that we are here," Pietros said with a bitter undertone. "Someone I thought was a friend informed the city guard quite quickly. Otherwise we could have escaped…"

  
He broke off and apologized to Duro. "I'm sorry. It might even have saved your life. They were found in time. Maybe I'm too Damaris. She must continue to serve Lucretia."  
"Damaris?" asked Duro. "This pretty girl with long dark hair? I've seen them a few times…"

  
Unfortunately, she hadn't noticed him until now, and his brother had already made fun of it. Then Agron reminded him of Naevia and Crixus. It was better to hold back.   
So she had informed the city guard and put everyone else in danger? Surely she had saved him with it. But she had done the latter unintentionally…

  
Pietros certainly did not belong in this prison. Duro had also heard stories about him. A friendly boy who hasn't harmed anyone. He knew about the relationship with Barca, who had left him behind, the repeated attacks by the ass Gnaeus and the new work as a house slave in the kitchen.

  
Apparently Pietros was no one who posed a danger to anyone. But he was one of the rebellious slaves, even though, Duro assumed, he had done nothing to anyone.   
Unlike as Ashur, no one has advocated for Pietros. That seemed so unfair to him…

  
Now they were in the same situation. Unlike Pietros, however, he had committed a crime under Roman law. He had fought with the others against the guards, killing some, and if he had been able to do so, he would have fled with the others.

  
Hadthere not been an attack by the gladiators on the soldiers before he had to leave the medicus' rooms? He would probably have been one of the attackers if his escape had been successful. He wondered if Agron had been involved.

  
"Unlike Pietros, I even belong here, at least in the opinion of the Romans," he thought, even though he did not regret their rebellion. Eventually, the others could escape if they had survived.

  
He thought of Hamilcar, whose death he had observed. They had been friends and Hamilcar's death was close to him. He closed his eyes and thought of Hamilcar. What had happened to his remains? Had they burned his body or buried his?

  
"Do you know where you would go if you could flee from here?" asked Pietros, and this question was not too difficult for Duro to answer, and he was torn from his thoughts on Hamilcar's death.

  
"Of course I would go in search of my brother and the others," he said, hoping that they would actually be in the sewer if they had ever gone there. There he would find them. But apparently they were still nearby when they carried out attacks on soldiers.

Duro looked up when someone stopped at the cell door and pushed two apples through the grids and dropped them to the ground. He recognized Alexios, the Medicus, but before he or Pietros could say anything, the doctor had already gone further.

  
"He does this sometimes... "I already suspected that he was," Pietros said as he picked up the apples from the ground.  
He handed Duro one. "This is always better than this broth."

  
Duro, on the other hand, could not comprehend Medicus' behaviour. Hadn't he always told him that he only cared for him because he had to and that it was actually a waste of time? Hadn't the man avoided every unnecessary word?

  
Duro pushed for the idea of an execution as best he could. "Wouldn't they have already done it?" he thought, turning to Pietros. "Maybe this doesn't happen."  
"Maybe," Pietros answered hesitantly, and Duro looked at the other that he was afraid. 

  
He was also scared, and the two shrugged as the door to the cell next door was opened. "The three in here. Let's mark them as fugitive slaves!" a guard commanded with a loud voice, and a few moments later Duro and Pietros saw three men tied by their hands being driven past their door. What would happen to them? Would they have to wear one of these neck rings, probably hammered by a blacksmith? Would their faces be injured with burn scars or cuts? 

  
He had already heard of slaves whose tormentors had cut off their noses or ears.

  
Would something similar happen to them sooner or later? Or would they soon be killed, even if he tried to comfort Pietros in this regard?  
"We should come up with something as soon as possible if we want to get out of here," Duro said softly, and Pietros shook his head sadly. "How should we do this? You're hurt, I can't fight. No one will help us."

  
"We have to do it alone," Duro replied, pressing Pietros' arm briefly.

  
He had relied on others long enough. When he got into trouble, his brother had made sure that he got away with half-healed skin. This was already the case in her childhood in Germania. Basically, Duro had relied on it, and he had to admit it to himself. 

  
Now he was on his own. He liked his friendly cellmate Pietros. Unfortunately, he seemed to have already come to terms with their situation. Actually Pietros was right. Their situation was near hopeless. 

  
But he would find a way. For yourself and for Pietros. Above all, he had to regain his strength. 

He bit his apple and thought of the Medicus. In fact, his motives played no role in his help. At the moment Duro was grateful for this little kindness.

  
Duro swallowed the last piece of the apple when the cell door opened. From the corners of his eyes, he saw Pietros shruging next to him as Aurelius entered the cell with four soldiers. Aurelius looked disapprovingly at the apple residue in Duro's hand. "Do Alexios spoil the prisoners again?" he asked, but shrugged.  
"The two are the next, take them with you!" he said, giving the prisoners a hateful smile.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. It's going to be a bleak chapter. Warning, there are crucifixions. Death People. POV Duro, Pietros and Drusus.  
> Thanks vor Comments and Kudos.
> 
> Who likes what-if stories, I wrote a Spartacus one-shoot , Curse or Blessing.

**Duro**

When Aurelius spoke and pointed at the prisoners, Pietros instinctively reached for Duro's forearm. The Roman saw it and laughed mockingly.

"Are you afraid, you little coward?" He pointed to Duro. "But he can't help you."

Unfortunately, the Roman was right, Duro could do nothing to protect himself or Pietros, but he would try.

Aurelius and the soldiers approached the prisoners and reached for them. Duro resisted Aurelius' grip and regretted it almost immediately.

A blow to his forehead almost robbed him of his senses, while the soldiers tied his hands behind his back. He heard a brief outcry from Pietros. Nor was he treated gently. Then the soldiers dragged both prisoners to their feet and pushed them out of the cell. 

Duro tried to keep himself on his feet despite his headaches and the pain of his old abdominal wound. He did not want to be dragged or carried by these men.

  
Were they taken to their execution? Or was a new interrogation imminent?

  
A large wooden door at the end of a long corridor was opened and Duro pushed outside. He stumbled, but the soldiers held him and prevented him from falling.

Apparently they were in the courtyard of the headquarters. Opposite was a large, three-storey building and the grounds were surrounded by a large wall.

"Over there," said Aurelius, and Duro saw that the Roman had clawed a hand into Pietros' hair, while the prisoner was dragged into a small building by two soldiers.

Duro was sure that Aurelius pulled Pietro by the hair out of malice. The boy didn't even resist very much. 

Both prisoners were pushed into the smaller building and an unfriendly man stood opposite the soldiers, with a hammer in his hand. Next to him were several tools on a table.

"Are these the last ones for today?" he asked in a bad mood. "What should happen to them? A fire mark? A collar? Boths?

Pietros seemed desperate to find an escape route, but that was hopeless. He and Duro were forced to their knees and the soldiers held them.  
Aurelius grabbed Pietros in the face and then shook his head. "Actually, I want both. Burn scars would mark their faces and everyone would see what a scum they are. But on the other hand, that would be a disgrace. The Bengel is pretty . Young men are not my taste, but perhaps one of our soldiers is interested in him before the crucifixion tomorrow morning. Put a collar on them. Everyone sees that they were slaves who wanted to flee, rose up against their rightful masters, and then received their just punishment. This is as good as a fire scar."

Pietros looked at the other prisoner in despair. Hadn't Duro recently tried to encourage himself and the other prisoner? Hadn't he given Pietros hope that they would stay alive?  
And now they would be humiliated first with this collar and then crucified. He didn't want to believe it. Nor when Aurelius gave the man next to him a collar, as Duro had seen him on Ania's neck.

He would have to endure this humiliation with hatred and reluctance.

The thought of his crucifixion made him tremble inwardly and he felt nausea rising. It was only with difficulty that he was able to combat the urge to empty his stomach contents on Aurelius' feet.

Duro thought it would have been easier for him to die in The Ludus a few weeks ago.

**Pietros**

Outside it was already dark and another cold night was imminent.

Pietros sat on the straw heap in her cell, holding his tightened legs with his arms clasped while Duro lay on his back next to him. The injured gladiator massaged his forehead with one hand, but there was already a small bruise.

Both had barely spoken since they were returned to the cell, but Pietros was sure that the other was thinking about the same thing as him. Crucifixion. Was there an even worse way to die? 

He remembers well what Iras had said about the death of Segovax. Duro had even observed the man's death.

Pietros knew enough about this method of execution to think of the next morning with horror. Had he committed something so horrible to deserve this punishment?

He knew that they would be executed along with the house slaves who had also recently been held in this prison. He heard voices and quiet crying from the other cells. These people shared his and Duros fear.

Pietros grabbed his neck. A ring made of a solid metal in a brownish color was there. He was not too tight, Pietros could push his thumb between the neck and the ring. It felt like a terrible piece of jewelry, but at least it didn't bother him breathing.

Until his arrest, he had been wearing a necklace that Barca had once given him. Pietros had worried at the time, but no one in the Ludus had been bothered by the gift and the fact that he was wearing it.

Like almost all of his few belongings, his necklace had already been taken from him on the first day in prison. All that remained to him were the clothes he wore on his body. They smelled by now and, like Duro and he, desperately needed a wash.  
Pietros had tried several times to free himself from the collar, but the man, probably a blacksmith, had worked it with a hammer and also hit Pietro's shoulder when he was moving at the wrong moment. The resulting bruising would remain visible for a while.

The collar could not be bent, broken or opened. Duro, staring at the ceiling, had tried much more violently to free himself from the thing, but his efforts had been just as futile.

"Why did they do this?" asked Pietros, and he could not prevent the trembling in his voice. "If they kill us anyway, why did they have to do it?"

"Because they enjoy tormenting us as long as they have the opportunity to do so," Duro said, "I'm sorry. I gave you false hopes. I thought we had another chance..."

"Not your guilt," Pietros muttered, and he meant it that way. "I had also hoped that they would no longer deal with us. But we are no longer useful... we are only good enough for a deterrent execution."

After a while, Duro sat down. "Pietros, when they come into the cell to get us, I try to get to one of their swords. Maybe I can. It's a small chance, it probably won't work. But we have nothing left to lose."

He smiled weakly. "Maybe I can at least take Aurelius with me…"

After a moment of hesitation, Pietros nodded. "I will help you as much as possible."

What did they have to lose?

  
**Drusus**

  
The morning dawned and Drusus watched his men as they did their gruesome work. Durus had decided to carry out the executions in front of the walls of the city. After all, there were peace-loving people who did not like the sight and, above all, the smell of decaying corpses.

Drusus wanted to protect the Roman citizens in the city. He did not want to give them the sight of these dead criminals in the midst of their walls.

He hated crucifixions and was glad that the Romans were never condemned to such a death. He had never been one of those who saw such an execution for pleasure. Some people did not share his opinion.

  
Even now, despite the early hour, some spectators were present. A Roman couple stood there and the woman giggled on her husband's shoulder. Apparently she found the spectacle not particularly scary, but rather amusing.

He recognized a wealthy Roman villa owner who often stayed in Capua for business.

  
Accompanied by his two slaves, he watched the execution. He had put his hands on the back of the twoand seemed to caress them. The slaves Drusus had seen more often in his company in the city were a pretty young blonde woman and a young man with long black hair. He said something about the two of them. Until now, they had tilted their heads slightly and looked to the ground, but now, according to the words of their dominus, they looked at the crucified.  
Probably her dominus warned them of bad behavior and warned them about what happened to slaves who rose up against their masters.

After that, the man had apparently lost his interest in the crucifixions and, followed by his slaves, made his way to the city.

There were other spectators. Drusus also recognized Ashur, the slave of the widow of Batiatus. He, too, did not miss the spectacle, before he, too, preferred to retreat behind the walls of the city.

  
Drusus returned to the executions.

  
A woman screamed loudly as nails were driven through her wrists. Drusus turned his gaze away. Had he had to decide on his own, the twenty slaves, five of whom were women, would have been killed quickly.

But this would not have had the same deterrent effect and he had received clear instructions from the Magistrate Gallienus and the new Praetor Glaber. 

No mercy with escaped slaves.

The slaves who were crucified and who had occupied his prison in the last few days were in fact guilty of a very serious crime. Encouraged by the bad example of Spartacus, they had killed their Dominus and three of his visiting friends and then fled. Their leader, a simple house slave named Darios, had incited the others.

Drusus remembered the dominus of the house slaves. Some time ago he had returned a fleeing domestic slave, and he had later died of the abuses inflicted on him by his dominus as punishment. 

The Dominus was a man who, despite his elegant clothes, looked unkempt and smelled terrible of sweat. Drusus had perceived him as a very unpleasant man. Drusus had been polite to the man who only reclaimed his property. After the dominus had left, he opened the windows to ventilate.

The escaped slaves had not come far, Drusus' men had already captured them after two days. As a reward had been suspended, information about her whereabouts had soon been revealed.

Unfortunately, the suspension of a much higher reward in capturing Spartacus and its gladiators had not been successful until now.

The sun slowly rose over the city, shining into the faces of the people who hung on the crosses. Drusus tried to ignore the cries of pain and the crying of the crucified. Some remained silent, and a young man had lowered his head. Either he had lost consciousness or he was one of those lucky enough to die quickly. Others screamed and one man even tried to free himself.

All had been labelled as escaped slaves. Two women had an F slashed in the forehead, the other three were wearing collars and one had an fire scar on her cheek. The men were similarly injured, and most of them had been treated even worse. The bodies of some were strewn with wounds, some of them also wore the hated neck rings and had bruises on the neck and shoulders by closing them.

  
Drusus had proved gracious, as the women were still wearing some of their clothes. The Men weared their Subligaria.

  
"Please let me go," sobbed one of the women, she was the oldest of them, and he estimated her to be sixty years old. She trembles all over her body and wouldn't last long.

  
"Marcella would hate me if she saw me do something like this," Drusus thought for a moment, but then became annoyed.

What else did he care about the opinion of his divorced wife? She had proved enough that she had too many feelings towards slaves or rather former slaves…

"We are done!" said Aurelius as he stood before his commander. "Some of them resisted, even when we took them out of the cell and also when we nailed them to the cross. I took care of it."

Drusus nodded and he looked at the other that he had enjoyed taking over the supervision of the crucifixion. This was a mission to the taste of the man he had recently promoted to captain.

Most of the spectators had since returned to the city. Few wanted to wait for hours for the deaths of those convicted.

"We are withdrawing now, only those who keep watch are left behind," Drusus said to Aurelius, looking again at the Crucified One.

He had fulfilled his commandment. From now on, he had some room for manoeuvre. He waved to one of the soldiers. "Take your sword and kill the women. Make it fast and painless. Then kill the men, except the leader. He should endure it to the end."

While most of the soldiers present returned to the city, the man set about carrying out the commander's order.

Aurelius was not satisfied with this decision. "Why show mercy?"

Drusus pointed to the prisoners. "What should be achieved has been achieved. They are dead and serve as a deterrent."

After all, only the leader and another man were alive when they heard riders approaching them. Drusus, Aurelius and the other soldiers drew their swords.

They were attacked, probably by bandits…

About fifteen horsemen approached the ten remaining soldiers. The first of Drusus men was skewered with a spear and some of the men got off the horses and stormed towards the other nine soldiers.

Drusus attacked one of the men and managed to push his sword into his arm, but another bandit pushed him to the ground.

"Spartacus, the prisoners are dead, except for two," shouted one of the attackers, and the man pushing Drusus to the ground turned to the other.

"Help those you can help," he cried, his voice sounding sad.

Drusus saw Aurelius trying to escape.

The commander looked at the man who appears to be Spartacus. He had never seen him before, after all, he had never attended the games in Capua.

Aurelius, meanwhile, was caught by one of the attackers and also knocked to the ground. "Please, don't do me!" the captain pleaded, and Drusus was ashamed to have such a cowardly man in his ranks. 

Aurelius had never behaved so cowardly towards the prisoners. 

The gladiator, for whom Drusus thought the attacker, gave Aurelius a kick in the side and the captain collapsed. He rolled to the side as the gladiator struck with his sword.

Aurelius again vociferously asked for mercy. Drusus himself would ask Spartacus or one of the other slaves, for they were nothing else in his eyes, not begging for mercy.

Another gladiator had pushed one of his soldiers against the stake of a cross and repeatedly punched him in the face with his fist. The rest of the Drusus soldiers lay on the ground, probably dead.

Meanwhile, the two survivors had been freed from the crosses, but for one of the slaves, any help seemed to come too late. 

"The man is dead," shouted one of these criminals. 

Apparently only Darios, the leader of the house slaves, lived. Two of the attackers carried him towards the horses.

Drusus groped for his sword, which had fallen out of his hand, while Spartacus and his men retreated. "Why does he bother to save these domestic slaves? Where did he get the horses from?" thought Drusus, before getting a blow to the head.

  
Drusus opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. The headaches were too bad. A hand was placed on his forehead.

"Good that you wake up again, commander," he heard the voice of Alexios, the Medicus.

Apparently he was in the hospital rooms of the headquarters.   
  
"I was afraid that you wouldn't wake up. You have a wound on my head that I had to sew. They probably thought you were dead. Or they were in a hurry. But you and Aurelius are the only survivors", said Alexios.

Drusus opened his eyes and saw Aurelius sitting on a stool with one arm in the noose. The man was pale and Drusus remembered how seeing the man the last time. Aurelius had been lying on the ground begging for mercy.

"You fought very bravely," he said mockingly, and Aurelius shrugged briefly. 

"I pretended to be dead!" he said, appearing to wait for praise from his commander.

When this failed, he sighed. "The gladiators were really angry. They called me a murderer!"

Drusus nodded, but this movement caused him further headaches. "Be glad that we did not crucify the two prisoners from the house of Batiatus with the others as planned. If the gladiators had found their comrades among the dead, they would probably have ripped our skin off or cut us into small pieces."

In fact, it was not until the early hours of the morning that Drusus decided not to execute the two young men from the Ludus. He had received a message the night before. Glaber, the praetor, would arrive in a few days and he wanted to give him these two prisoners alive.

Drusus was already secretly afraid of Glaber's rage, because he had not yet managed to capture or kill even one of the escaped gladiators. Today's raid, in which the leader of the house slaves was freed and several soldiers were killed, would add to this anger.

Already in Rome Drusus had heard some stories about Glaber and the new praetor was a man he did not want as his enemy.

"Aurelius, do not let your anger out on the two captives," Drusus commanded his captain, who looked at him disappointed. "I want to hand them over to Glaber in a presentable state! Let him decide what happens to them."

Maybe that would make the praetor a little mild.…

  
**Pietros**

  
Pietros sat in a corner on the floor of the cell, trying to suppress a tremor. The night had been terrible, and in the morning he and Duro had expected to be taken out of their cells and executed with the other prisoners.

They would serve as a deterrent example for future rebellious slaves. He wondered if the few people still close to them would ever know what had happened to them. After all, they did not know for sure whether Letitia, Iras and the other fleeing house slaves and gladiators were still nearby. With the exception of Duros brother and the two women from the kitchen, would they be interested in their fate at all?

Pietros had wondered if Barca would wait for him after his death. He wanted to see Barca again. 

But not so soon…

Duro leaned against the wall near the door. He struggled to keep his feet on his feet, holding a hand on his stomach, but was ready to fight. Pietros had stood next to him to help as best he could.

But the other prisoners were led past their cell, chained together, and Aurelius had mockingly shouted to them that they would not be killed, but would instead be handed over to the new praetor in a few days…

Exhausted, Pietros was sitting on the floor and would have preferred to hide forever in this darkest corner of the cell. 

He was tired and felt the tension fall away from him. For the time being, at least, they would live on, even if the prospect that the praetor would now decide their fate was not really reassuring. 

Pietros wondered who the new praetor was and if he had ever heard of him, because Aurelius had not given a name.

Pietros looked up as Duro stood in front of him and held his hand to him. "Come on, sit down over there on the straw. It's cold in the corner…"

Pietros grabbed his hand and got up. Duro put an arm around his shoulder and Pietros leaned into the offered hug. They sat down on their pile of straw, and Duro placed the blanket around their two shoulders.

Pietros closed his eyes and the tension of the last hours finally fell off him. Duro was obviously similar. 

They were still alive.

**Actually, the chapter should end with Drusus. But then I added the last POV of Pietro's conclusion because I wanted to show how the guys are doing.**

**These unopened collars actually existed. Enter Zonine collar if you are interested. Sometimes small plaques were placed on which the honest finder was promised a reward.**

**Next time it won't be so bleak. Then Lucretia gets an unsolicited visit and you will meet an acquaintance from the series. Duro and Pietros also get their part in the next chapter. Perhaps a small glimmer of hope appears on the horizon.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. Lucretia gets an unsolicited visit and Duro makes a great sacrifice. There is also another interesting well-known person. POV Lucretia, Duro and Drusus. Have fun reading.

**Lucretia**

_They sat on the edge of the cliff. Actually Lucretia didn't want to be there. The abyss was so deep...._

_But the presence of her friend made her smile. For some reason they hadn't seen each other for a long time.…_

_Gaia gently stroked Lucretia's cheek and smiled at her affectionately. As always, Gaia wore her red wig and looked enchanting. Lucretia bent over and her lips touched the other woman's lips, while Gaia's hands of Lucretia's cheek wandered over her neck to her chest._

_She stroked Lucretia's belly. "How is little Gaia doing?"_

_Lucretia smiled and placed her hand on Gaias. "How do you want to know that it will be a girl who will bear your name?"_

_Gaia leaned her head against her friend's shoulder. "I know. She will one day be the most beautiful woman of Capua…"_

_"Of course she will," Lucretia laughed, and Gaia pressed her hand and looked at her friend thoughtfully. "She will be lucky enough to find someone she loves, and he will love her as much. But I ask you not to destroy it. She would be unhappy…"_

_Lucretia looked at her loved girlfriend amazement. Of course, she wouldn't do anything that would hurt little Gaia. But it was too early to think about her daughter's future love. She had to be born first._

_Smiling, Gaia pulled her closer into a hug and her lips almost touched again…_

Lucretia was terrified of her sleep when a vase standing on a table near the window fell to the ground. She opened her eyes and saw three dark figures standing in the room, illuminated by the moonlight.

She screamed loudly and one of the figures rushed towards her and pressed a knife to her neck.

"No sound!" hissed a voice that was completely unknown to her. "Don't scream. Die with dignity!  
The figure pulled out with the knife and the other two figures also approached her bed. "Hurry up!" another male voice hissed. "Kill her."

At that moment the door to her room opened and the man with the knife was pulled away from her and thrown to the ground. The next moment, the second man put a knife in his throat, while the third man rushed out of the room, but then screamed when a clatter sounded.

Lucretia lit a candle next to her bed and trembled all over her body. A man lay on the floor with a knife in his neck and Matay knelt on the belly of another darkly dressed figure.

  
At that moment, Ashur entered the bedroom. Lucretia didn't even know he was back in the house. That had to change. But this was not the time to think about it.

"I caught another one," Ashur said. "He wanted to escape. I had to kill him, he attacked me with a knife!"

Lucretia pulled up her duvet and looked from Matay to Ashur, while the former nodded appreciatively to the other Syrians. "Well done."

He grabbed the last remaining attacker by the neck. "And you will now tell us who sent you. Why did you want to kill the domina?

The man lying on the ground was initially silent when Ashur pulled the other attacker's body out of the room. Lucretia was grateful for this because she did not want the dead man in her bedroom.

Meanwhile, Damaris had also entered the room and presented her dominame with a coat, which she put on before she got out of bed. Lucretia looked at the young Greek woman who was standing next to her and visibly scared.

Lucretia looked at the overwhelmed assassin, while Matay increased the pressure on the man's neck. "Speak! Who sent you?

Lucretia became angry about the man. He had invaded her bedroom and assaulted her, a pregnant woman. She didn't let that happen, and she opened a small chest next to her bed and pulled out a gilded narrow dagger.

Quintus once gave it to her. He wanted her to feel a little safer when he wasn't in the house to protect her.

Almost affectionately, she stroked the handle of the dagger before going into the squat next to Matay. "Speak! You have heard my bodyguard's question!"

She cut the man's cheek and then held the dagger over his eye. "If you don't want to lose an eye, you should answer as soon as possible," she hissed angrily, slapping the man on the nose.

He moaned and the blood flowed.

Matay looked at his dominax with a mixture of surprise and respect, before holding the man's knife, which Ashur handed him, to his throat. Apparently the other Syrian had pulled it from the neck of the dead man, who had been removed from the room.

"Ilithyia! The wife of the praetor," the man stammered, trying to free himself, but Matay dealt him a blow to the shoulder, preventing the assassin from getting up.

"Ilithyia!" Lucretia hissed. "This damn, sneaky.…"

"And she sent three of you? Killing a pregnant woman? How pathetic," Matay continued his interrogation with the prisoner. "You're going to die anyway. But when you talk, I do it quickly and painlessly. So tell us everything you know.

Ashur, meanwhile, went into the squat next to Lucretia and Matay, while Damaris stood anxiously in the farthest corner of the room, holding a hand in front of her mouth.  
Lucretia saw this from the corners of her eyes and she was annoyed by the anxious girl. 

She was so terribly sensitive that Lucretia feared that one day she would be frightened to death by the too loud chirping of a bird. On the one hand, it was touching. But at the moment it was just annoying.

  
"Go to the kitchen and get a jug of wine for Matay and Ashur. And get me some of the juice that Lenya made from the apples yesterday," she ordered, to get the girl out of the way.

She loved drinking this juice since the beginning of her pregnancy and she thought Matay and Ashur deserved at least a good sip of wine to protect the life of their domina.

"But don't wake the other slaves," she told the young woman as she left the bedroom.

Perhaps it was wise not to have so many witnesses when it was an assassination commissioned by Ilithyia…

They had to keep a cool head.

"We should kill the dominaia and all the other inhabitants of the house. That's why she sent three of us. We should make it look as if some gladiators have returned to complete their work," the assassin said now.

Apparently he had decided to speak. Lucretia nodded and turned to the prisoner. "Did she hire you alone? Or does Glaber know anything about it? Did you come in his name?"

The man shook his head. "He wasn't there when I spoke to her. She said it was something personal. She just said she didn't want you to tell you anything about her. She didn't say more. That probably slipped out of her by mistake. "

Lucretia thought hard. What could Lucretia say about Ilithyia? What did Glaber's wife want to keep secret?

"Glaber is now a praetor..." stammered the man lying on the ground.

Lucretia smiled bitterly. Then Glaber and thus Ilithyia had made a social ascent. Hadn't she always wanted that? What would he be next? Senator?

Lucretia came up with a thought. Until now, she hadn't talked about being sure that Ilithyia was the one who locked the door when she and her dear husband were slaughtered by the gladiators…

"If that were the case, it would certainly not be good for Glaber and his wife. He would also be angry with her. Because it could stand in the way of his success if the right people used it against him. He certainly has enemies in Rome. People like him always have enemies somewhere," Lucretia thought, recalling Licinia. 

By the murder of her, her enemy had already put the new praetor in an awkward situation. Perhaps Ilithyia was also afraid that this old story would come out.

This could really damage her husband's professional career, because Licinia was Crassus' cousin. Another man whom no one, not even Glaber, wanted as an enemy…

Lucretia also knew that Ilithyia had slept with Spartacus. This, too, was something That Glaber was better than.

Was Ilithyia afraid that Lucretia would still be talking?

Lucretia had heard enough, and before Ashur or Matay could react, she pressed her dagger into the man's throat.

Trembling, she got up and sat on her bed.

"Domina, are you hurt?" asked Matay, and she thought she heard something like worry from his voice. But she knew it wasn't out of sympathy for her. He had only done his job as a bodyguard…

  
But he did it very well. She was grateful to him and also to Ashur. Eventually, the two had saved her life.

It was almost more important to her that they had thwarted Ilithyia's plan. Her enemy would be desperate about it.

"For the time being, Glaber should not know about what his wife tried that night," she said, addressing her two slaves. "Get rid of the corpses. We will not mention the incident any more…"

Matay, meanwhile, had searched the dead man's clothes and found a small bag of coins and a ring.

Lucretia smiled. "Very good, Matay. I know this ring. Ilithyia owned some of them. Family heirlooms. The rings were a gift from her mother-in-law, Glaber's mother. She gave it to the wedding and Ilithyia showed it to me once. Glaber would certainly recognize the ring."

She took the ring. "I will keep it like the coins. Do you see the bag, Matay? How beautiful is it decorated? It's a **G** embroidered. These bags were also often used by Glaber and Ilthyia for their money... when it comes to blurring tracks, she's not too smart. But that doesn't change the fact that she's a sneaky snake..."

Lucretia shook her head. She didn't think Ilithyia was so stupid. Surely the assassin had stolen the ring and bag to increase his reward for his mission. 

The man's belongings had now fallen into her hands as a gift.

Ashur and Matay rose from their squatting posture and the bodyguard turned to Ashur. "Do you know where we best get rid of the corpses without them being found? You seem to be familiar with such things."

Lucretia looked at Matay. Either he had already learned something about Ashur, or he had a good knowledge of human nature.

Ashur nodded. "Sometimes removed angles in the sewer are suitable for disposal. Then it looks as if the dead have become victims of shady squabbles in the city and deposited there. People have already been removed over the cliff. However, there is a risk that the bodies will reappear. I suggest burying them somewhere between here and Capua. As deep as possible. It should look as if they have never been here.“

Lucretia was amazed that Ashur was so willing to provide information.

Matay and Lucretia nodded approvingly. While Lucretia drank the juice that the still frightened Damaris brought her, Matay and Ashur set out to remove the bodies of the assassins.

"Lucretia should think that the assassins were never here. Let them believe that they have deceived them. That they took the money and the ring without carrying out their mission. And occasionally I will use what I have experienced tonight against them," Lucretia thought.

Ilithyia would not get rid of Lucretia so easily. She hoped that she could continue to rely on the loyalty of Matay, Ashur and the anxious Damaris.

At the moment, the girl was probably the biggest risk to her.

**Duro**

Over the next few days, Duro and Pietros felt some relief in their captivity. Aurelius stayed away from them and contented himself with staring at them angrily as he passed the cell.

Even the Medicus went into the cell and gave Duro a jug in which a herbal potion was found against his pain. Alexios behaved as silently as usual, but neither Pietros nor Duro bothered. After all, they knew him no differently.

They experienced the greatest relief when three soldiers entered the cell and dragged a large bucket of water in. They loudly put the bucket on the floor and a little water spilled out.

Then one of the men threw two simple blue-grey tunics on the ground. "They are for you. You shall wash yourself. And put on clean clothes. You both smell unbearable. So we can't show you to the new praetor."

He threw a rag at their feet and pulled a knife. "I'd love to cut off your fingers or push the knife directly into your neck. But you shall shave, of course under our supervision. The hair must also be cut.

He pointed to Duro. "Your hair needs it the most…"

Duro was determined not to cut off his hair. Surely he would not do it because a Roman commanded him. But the ability to wash and shave and put on fresh clothes was tempting.

When the soldier pressed the knife into his hand, he briefly toyed with the idea of using it against the soldiers. If he had still threatened execution, he probably would have done so.

But in front of the cell were two more soldiers and that made such an attempt hopeless at the moment. It was the wrong time.

Still, he came up with a different idea. The soldier standing in front of him carried his sword and two long knives on his belt…

A little later, Duro and Pietros sat freshly washed and shaved on the floor in front of the bucket in the new clothes. Both felt visibly more comfortable.

The soldier looked disapprovingly at Duro. "What about the hair? This must be cut back. If you don't do it yourself, I'll do it."

Duro shook his head and he didn't really feel comfortable giving up his long hair. It had taken some time for it to grow the way he wanted it, and he had helped Agron to freeze his hair in a similar way, as his brother had proved rather clumsy in this regard…

But that was a sacrifice he had to make if his plan worked.

Duro got up and went to his and Pietros pile of straw and sat on it. "Forget it," he said, giving the soldier a mocking smile. 

In this way, and with this smile, he had already driven the man who had the misfortune to teach him and Agron and other children of the tribe in archery during their childhood in Germania. This happened when the boys and some girls wanted to swim in the nearby Woodsea instead of listening to the man's remarks.

"You will do what I command you, cursed slave," said the soldier, raising his fist menacingly, but Duro looked at the soldier as brazenly as possible. "No."

Pietros looked at him anxiously. "Duro, it's just hair..." he whispered.

The soldier reacted, as Duro had feared and hoped. He approached him with the knife in his hand, grabbed his hair and cut it off. He didn't proceed very gently and Duro retreated a little to the straw heap. The soldier bent over him, while the other two men prevented Pietro from coming to his aid.

For this seemed to be the intention of the other, to Duro's surprise. This was very risky for Pietros. But it made sure that the other two men were briefly distracted…

After the man had finished his work, he looked down, still angry, at Duro, who looked at him seemingly terrified by his pile of straw. But inwardly he thriumphed. His plan had worked.

"Next time you will do what I ask of you!" said the man, appearing visibly satisfied, despite his anger, as he looked from Duro to Pietros, whom the soldiers had since released.

"Now you're at least clean and no longer like smelly animals!" he said with a satisfied nod. "And believe me, this was the last time you experienced such a luxury here. I hope that the new praetor will not be as friendly with you as I am!"

Eventually, the soldiers, along with the bucket and dirty clothes, left the cell and locked the door behind them.

Duro turned to Pietros. "You really wanted to help me? It was dangerous. I was afraid they would beat you up for it. Aurelius probably would have done it. It's good that he wasn't there."

Pietros briefly shrugged at the name of the vicious captain, but then shook his head. „Apparently they shouldn't do too much to us at the moment. We even got new clothes. I didn't know it was as important as how we look. But we really looked like we had mercy and we stank almost as badly as the food in the Ludus. Perhaps the commander is concerned that the praetor will disgust us when he sees us. But shouldn't he care? I don't understand that…"

Then Pietros took one of the cut strands in his hand. "It's a disgrace... Your hair. But why did you do that? Why did you have to challenge him so much and didn't just cut it off yourself? I was afraid that the guy would forget his orders and hurt you with the knife.

Duro looked with regret at the cut-off hair in Pietro's hand and grabbed his head. Luckily, the man hadn't cut off all his hair. His head was still covered with curly hair, although it was now frighteningly short. He hoped it would grow quickly. He definitely didn't want to look like a Roman.

But then he smiled and reached into the straw next to him. 

He scrambled a little in the stalks and then pulled out one of the two knives that the soldier had recently carried on his belt. „I took that away from him when he was busy with my hair and bent over me. I didn't think it would actually work…"

Pietros smiled too, but then got serious again. "What happens when he realizes it's gone? Won't he look for it with us first?"

But Duro and Pietros got an answer to this question quite quickly, because the soldier passed by, together with one of his comrades at the cell. "Have you seen my second knife? I think I lost it at breakfast this morning. Then I had dropped my weapons briefly. Or one of the others probably stole it from me."

"You really can't leave anything unattended here. Some of our people are stealing their own comrades. That is a real disgrace. At some point we should complain to the commander about it," replied the other soldier in a bad mood. "My shoes were even stolen last week! I had to go to the service almost barefoot. Luckily, I had a replacement!"

Duro and Pietros could hardly stop laughing and they only held back until the soldiers had left the corridor in front of the cell.

The knife could prove useful once again. At least they now had a gun, though none with which they could do too much. 

But it was at least a start.

**Drusus**

  
Drusus was groaning when he got up too quickly from his chair in his office of the headquarters. He quickly sat down again and closed his eyes briefly. Actually, the Medicus had advised him to stay in bed for a few more days.

With Drusus, a very young man sat in the room. He was a slave who had recently served him as a scribe. 

"My head really troubles me," he said, nodding kindly to the boy. "And you'd probably like to finish your day and rest, what?"

But a squad of soldiers had just returned and they brought five prisoners.

He had to take care of this, and so he rose again from his seat when the men were led in by Aurelius and his soldiers.

The prisoners looked like Drusus imagined shady figures moving in shabby areas. Appropriately, they had got into a brawl in a tavern in the worst quarter of Capua and there had been one death. 

The summoned city guard had managed to arrest the five men. Apparently, the prisoners had fought back violently, as the soldiers had bruises and a man dripped blood from his nose, which he wiped away.

He heard his captain's account.

Drusus was more than satisfied. After the testimony of witnesses and the hasty confession of one of the men who boasted about his actions, it had turned out that it was more than a harmless brawl.

  
The men were pirates who belonged to the crew of Heracleo, a well-known and notorious pirate. According to the statements of the announcer, who still grinned stupidly and was stared at furiously by his four comrades, they had a mission to fulfill and he had led them to Capua.  
Drusus sighed inwardly. The escaped gladiators and rebellious slaves actually caused him enough problems at the moment. Unfortunately, there were also enough other shady figures in Capua and one of them probably did some dirty business with Heracleo, but had not adhered to agreements.   
Apparently it was a not inconsiderable sum of money that Heracleo wanted to collect through his men in this way.  
There was then a brawl between the pirates and the people of his former business partner. One man died.

The commander of the city guard had a saying in mind that he once heard about Heracleo. You don't cheat on the man, you stick to better agreements, but you shouldn't rely on him.

  
Drusus was not dissatisfied. It is true that he could not present anyone from the house of Batiatus, except for a ragged and sick gladiator and a house slave who had actually done nothing, if the praetor would arrive in a few days. He had the two reasonably set up to make them a little more presentable. So they made a little more than if they were too pitiable creatures. His success was greater.

  
The thought mockingly made him smile. Pity was not one of Glaber's outstanding qualities. 

  
At least he was able to present a few wanted pirates.

  
"Lock the five in cells, but in separate ones, they should not agree and make any plans," he ordered his captain Aurelius, whose arm was still hanging in the noose and who kept a little distance from the captured pirates.

  
Although they wore chains on their hands and feet, they looked at the captain so fiercely, and one of them, a man of black skin color, made a few mocking remarks that he preferred not to get too close to them.

  
This dark-skinned man made the most well-groomed impression of all.

  
Aurelius, who was still troubled by the gladiatorial raid at the crucifixion, seemed almost as exhausted as Drusus felt at the moment, leaving it to his soldiers to bring the five men into their cells. Then he too left the commander's office.

  
Drusus sat down on his chair again. He then turned to his scribe and dictated the names of the pirates. Some sounded adventurous.

  
"Soron. Valentinus, the one-eyed Egyptian. Draganius the Hard-hearted. Xerxes the wise Persian..,“here Drusus laughed.

  
Surely those who gave him the name did not take it seriously and were actually making fun of him. "Actually, it should be Xerxes the fool. He told without need everything he knew and probably the other pirates would throw him overboard to the sharks if he ever returned there. Which, of course, won't happen.…"

Then he turned again to the scribe. "And the name of the last pirate is Castus."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. It's gotten a bit longer. Pietros does not know where to go or where he belongs. And the escaped gladiators have temporarily found a new place. Two of them are in great sorrow because they miss dear people.
> 
> Then there are the pirates. I thought about giving one of them a parrot. But then I probably should have called him Jack. Little joke.
> 
> And again many thanks to Goddess of the Arena for your comments and to those who have given Kudos. Hope you like the chapter.

**In prison**

Duro and Pietros woke up when five new prisoners were loudly brought into their cells late in the evening. They sat on their pile of straw and Pietros picked up the blanket, which had fallen to the ground when it was put on. 

His bare feet were freezing cold and he wanted warming shoes. But neither he nor Duro had them. The new generosity of the Romans had not gone so far.

"Cursed Pirates!" shouted one soldier, and there was a response from one of the pirates. "Damn Roman!"

"Then we share the prison with pirates," Duro said. "But still better than the Romans."

"Isn't everything better than a Roman?" asked Pietros, who had stood up.

He went to the cell door and tried to see something as he looked through the bars of the door. One last pirate was brought to his cell. That was at the other end of the aisle. The man had a dark skin color and his gaze crossed briefly with that of Pietros.

He thought he could see something like pity in the stranger's face.

"Do you even capture people who are almost still children?" the man asked contemptuously. "You really have to be afraid of fugitive slaves when something like this is needed. Did Spartacus intimidate you Romans so much?"

"Hold your mouth, Castus!" cursed the soldier. "That was your name, wasn't it?"

Apparently the man, Castus, had seen Pietro's neck ring and realized what he was. Only a slave who could not escape, but had the naughtiness to try it. This was unpleasant for him and he cursed again the fact that he and Duro could not free themselves from things. He was all the more annoyed that this pirate had called him a child.

"The new praetor will deal with you!" said one of the four soldiers who accompanied the prisoner. "And believe me, you will curse the day when you decided to live a pirate life when Glaber is done with you!"

The pirate laughed briefly and mockingly before being locked up in his cell. If the name Glaber intimidated him, he didn't show it.

Pietros, on the other hand, returned to Duro, who looked at his cellmate from feverish eyes. He was still struggling with the evening fever and by now they had begun to divide their drinks to the point where there was something left for the evening and the night.

"Have you heard what the Romans said?" asked Pietros as he handed the water to Duro. "Who is the new praetor?"

Duro nodded and he seemed as worried as Pietros. "Glaber. Spartacus hates him and wants to kill him. He is known for cruel punishments and was also a frequent guest of Batiatus. He gave us these cruel guardians in the Ludus at that time."

Pietros looked at the other with a mixture of dismay and fear. "Letitia has always warned us not to draw his attention to us. His wife must be almost as bad. Letitia believed that she had something to do with Segovax's assassination attempt on Spartacus. And then she let him die. She didn't care what happened to him."

Pietros smiled faintly at the memory of the chef. "Letitia always knew much more than Batiatus and Lucretia suspected. She would never have used her knowledge. What should she have done? But sometimes she told us something…"

"I also wondered at the time why Segovax wanted to kill Spartacus. But he didn't tell us anything about Glaber's wife. I don't know if that would have saved him," Duro replied, appearing as worried as Pietros. "We will not fare any better than the pirates."

He pulled out the knife hidden under the straw and stared at it thoughtfully for a while. "If we want to escape at some point, we should try soon."

Pietros nodded unhappily. He, too, did not want to wait for Glaber to arrive, and they were at his mercy or disgrace. The latter was more likely.

"But how are we supposed to flee? There are too many soldiers..." said Pietros, adding something that had been on his mind for so long. "You know you want to look for your brother. The others will probably welcome you as well. But I... can't accompany you. I can't go to them.“

Duro looked at the other in amazement. "Why can't you go to them? What should they have against you? You also have girlfriends there. What about the cook and Iras? You told me that they are your friends and that you would like to see them again. They probably miss you too."

Pietros looked so unhappy that Duro compassionately placed a hand on his shoulder and made a presumption. "Are you afraid of Gnaeus? Is it because of him?"

Pietros shrugged and looked at his hands, which began to tremble slightly.

"He will not come near you," Duro promised. "Not if I can prevent it. He's a pig. I don't like him.“

He smiled cheerfully at Pietros. "And if I can't protect you because of my injury, I'll ask my brother Agron to help us. He has beaten him before and since then Gnaeus has shunned him. He had made the mistake of putting his hands on Agron's butt when we were new to The Ludus. That wasn't very good for Gnaeus…"

Pietros was silent. He was relieved that Duro was not one of Gnaeu's friends. Actually, he should have known. Duro was not a man who chose such men as friends, especially after touching their brothers unasked. 

But he did not manage to tell about his last encounter with the gladiator.

"I... i have done something that they may not forgive..." he said only, but Duro looked at him in doubt.

"Pietros, I haven't known you for a long time. But I'm sure you can't have done anything really bad. You are not a person who commits any crimes or wants to harm another. What did you do so badly to draw the fury of the gladiators on you? Did you stepped on Crixus Shield? Or haven't you cleared the exercise swords properly? I don't trust you to do anything much worse."

Pietros smiled tentatively. Until recently, he would have agreed to Duro. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

On the other hand, no one knew that he had killed Gnaeus. If he didn't talk about it, claiming that he had seen Gnaeu's body in the house and that the Romans were probably responsible for his death…

"He... is dead...," he said. "But... the Römer.....im house.…"

"Then it happened to him like Hamilcar," Duro recalled. "Hamilcar was supposed to take care of him when we fled. Gnaeus was no longer himself in the weeks leading up to the escape. He was even crazier than before. Medicus said it was linked to a head injury. But that doesn't excuse anything. Almost all of them had almost lost patience in the end. Spartacus asked Hamilcar to take care of him before the fight with the guards, so that he would not somehow become a danger to us."

"But Hamilcar died and no one paid any more attention to Gnaeus. Then he came into the house...", Pietros suspected quietly. "And there...he came into the kitchen... and wanted....and he killed Florus... and there I have him…"

Duro stared at him for a moment in surprise. He obviously did not expect such a confession.

"It... I'm sorry... I never wanted anyone...," Pietros said in an uncertain voice. "But what should I have done…"

"You killed him because he killed Florus when he attacked you to force you..." Duro began, but Pietros interrupted him. " Don't talk it any further. Please. It's disgusting. It is bad enough for me that everyone knows that he has tried it several times in the Ludus. And it didn't happen. Because I killed him with Florus sword after I poured boiling water in his face…"

"Oh... You're much more dangerous than I thought," Duro said, but it sounded a little impressed and he didn't seem angry at Pietros.…

"Did you really think I was going to blame you? Of course, he also wore our sign. And he was a pretty good fighter. But you did what every one of us probably would have done," Duro said. " He also killed poor Florus. I liked Florus. He didn't have it easy with us. Crixus that disgust had already been looking after him in the first days. And I certainly don't blame you. I wouldn't have waited for Gnaeus to sit on me."

Pietros was relieved. At least his new-found friend remained with him even after his confession. But he did not know whether others would rather share Duro's view or even hold him accountable for Gnaeus' death.

He did not know if it was right for him to accompany Duro in his quest for the others. But he also didn't know where else to go.

They also had to escape from the cell, the prison, and then from the headquarters before they could think about where their escape would eventually lead them.

**With the rebels**

Spartacus sat next to the couch of the liberated house slave Darios. He and his people had succeeded in saving the man from death on the cross, but now he was dying. The injuries he had already suffered from torture were too severe.

They had settled in a villa outside Capua after leaving the sewer a week earlier. Too much scourge drifted around besides them, and Spartacus trusted anyone who hid there or had any other reason to stay there to betray them.

They had gone out of the way of other users of the sewer sands as far as it went and the system below the city was quite extensive and offered some space for hiding places. Nevertheless, it was not suitable as a permanent solution and had never been intended as such.

  
So they had attacked this villa and settled there temporarily, but would leave this place as soon as possible. Crixus was still looking for Naevia and often made trips to Capua to question the very scourge that Spartacus preferred to avoid.

A path had led to this villa, but Naevia had not been there, or rather, had not been there. Frightened by the raid, the villa's dominus had talked about what he had done to Naevia.

Spartacus had left it to Crixus to hold the Dominus to account…

At least it was possible to free several slaves from the clutches of this dominus. The men and women had decided to join them. The conquest of this villa had proved to be a stroke of luck for another reason.

They needed horses. And there were many of these animals in this place. There were several stables on the property, apparently the Dominus had invested a large part of its money in the purchase of horses.

"Tomorrow we should leave this place," said Spartacus, addressing Aurelia, who was sitting nearby with her son Janus on her lap. The little boy had leaned on his mother and had fallen asleep.

She had brought the boy to her home after her brother asked her to do so. With all his affection for his sister and little nephew, he feared being associated with Spartacus and his little rebellion, and Aurelia was among those who had fled The Ludus.

He still felt guilty towards Aurelia. After all, he had killed her husband, even though he had no choice.

He also didn't really feel comfortable staying with her young son. Wasn't this too dangerous for the child? And did they have time to take care of children while they were on the run? On the other hand, the boy would probably not remain the last child they would have.

One of the freed house slaves was heavily pregnant and the women already said that the birth was to be expected at any moment. The freed pregnant woman was afraid of living a life on the run, even with an infant. But her dominus had threatened to take the child away from her after birth when he noticed her pregnancy. He wanted to suspend or sell it. 

On this point, he had not yet been sure.

Crixus had also acted in the interests of the high-pregnant when he dealt with the man. Spartacus had seen this on her approving nod when she saw Crixus returning from the dominus's interrogation with a bloody sword. She had given him a cloth with a grim smile so that he could clean his weapon.

At least the young woman was allowed to keep her unborn child now, and that was a great relief for her.

One of the gladiators from the Ludus, who belonged to the Gauls, had meanwhile, almost immediately after leaving Ludus, began a relationship with one of the slaves from the house.

Spartacus saw the young man standing anxiously next to the woman and handing her a cup of water. For the past few days, she has been handing herself over frequently and she suspected that she was also expecting a child. Her companion, who had been a pretty good gladiator, cared very lovingly for her.

Love relationships among the former slaves could neither be prevented nor did Spartacus want to do so. Wasn't it also an essential part of a free life to enter into relationships with each other? The fact that children were born was in the nature of the matter. 

In addition, it was to be expected that if they decided to free more slaves, children would also be among them. Some were descended from slaves living in the villas, while others had been sold without their parents.

What should happen to the children? They could not leave the youngest among them to their fate alone.

Their group grew and with the women and children also the responsibility they bore for the people grew…

He turned to Darios, who reached for his hand and looked at him gratefully. He knew he was dying. But his death had become much more peaceful as a means of his liberation. They had taken care of his wounds as best they could, and an elderly woman, who was a healer and knew herbs very well, sat on the other side of the man.

She couldn't save him either, but she had done what she could to relieve his pain.

In the end, they owed it to Crixus, who, in search of information about Naevia, had learned of the impending crucifixions in Capua. Unfortunately, Spartacus and those who accompanied him in the liberation action had come too late for most.

Mira sat by his side and she placed a hand gently on the forehead of the dying man. She gave Spartacus a tentative smile, which he did not resolicit, because at that moment a loud argument broke out between Crixus and Agron.

Spartacus sighed. Not again. 

Mira got up. "I'm already taking care of it," she said, and went to remove the fighters from near the dying man. Couldn't they at least pull themselves together in Darios' presence?

Iras, with whom Mira had befriended and who learned archery with her, followed her. Mira was the more skilful of the two when it came to handling the bow, but Iras learned quickly and her skills would certainly improve over time.

She wasn't the only woman who had started training with guns. Among the liberated house slaves of this villa there were already two young women who showed interest. Some of the men were also promising and showed a little skill, while some of the gladiators tried to teach them basic knowledge in combat.

  
Crixus and Agron were furious and looked at Mira in surprise as she grabbed both men by the arm and looked at them reproachfully. "If you want to go to each other's throats, do it outside the door. Take a little respect for poor Darios!"

She let them both go and followed them when they actually left the house. Shaking her head, she looked at them both. 

She knew that these two gladiators would probably not become friends in this world and in this life. But the scale of their ongoing squabbles gradually became a burden on others. 

For a moment, it seemed as if both men wanted to continue their argument, but then they contented themselves with looking furiously before falling apart in separate directions.

"Individually you can get along with them," Iras told Mira. "Together they are unbearable. I don't really understand the reason. Is it really only because one is Gaul and the other German?"

Mira shrugged. "That's certainly a reason. In doing so, they should actually understand each other very well. Both are thick-headed, loud, outrageous and cause trouble."

She said this with a sad smile. "Both have suffered a loss. Agron mourns naevia for his brother and Crixus. A bit of mutual consideration would be appropriate."

Iras nodded in agreement, but disagreed on one point. "Crixus still has hope of finding Navia. He hopes she is still alive and will probably search for her until he finds her alive or receives confirmation of her death. But there is hope. I even share them. I also want us to find Naevia. She was a friend and I miss her. Especially since Damaris and Pietros don't want to know anything about me anymore and prefer to continue living with Lucretia under one roof."

She was still unsure of Pietros, but wondered why Damaris should have been lying.  
Mira looked at the other sadly. "I understand what you mean. Crixus still has a faint hope. I don't even know if Spartacus shares that hope, even if he supports Crixus. But Agron has no hope. Duro is dead."

Meanwhile, Agron had sat down on the steps of the villa and stared at himself. He seemed to be somewhere else with his thoughts. Crixus, on the other hand, had sat down a bit away under a tree. He, too, looked sadly into the distance and Mira felt pity for both of them.

So both often sat there when they were not busy killing Romans, looking for Naevia, or arguing with each other.

"Yesterday I heard a really bad argument," Mira said, watching Letitia Agron squeeze a bowl with a spoon in her hand.

With an absent look, he took her and placed lunch next to him, but made no attempt to eat any of it.

  
"Crixus accused Agron of putting everyone else at risk if he took too many risks as soon as he saw a Roman even from afar," Mira said of yesterday's dispute. "And Agron told Crixus that he would put everyone in danger if they continued to search for Naevia."

Iras sighed. "After these words, did they punch each other in the face?"

Mira shook her head. "They wanted to. But Donar and Spartacus separated them in time. Then Agron accused Crixus of treating his brother during training and asked him if he was happy now that Duro is dead…"

Letitia had meanwhile arrived at Crixus and handed him a bowl. But the Gaul also put his lunch next to him and stared further into nowhere.

  
"Crixus was really visibly affected after these allegations and he said it wasn't. With this accusation Agron has gone too far, I think", Mira continued, as Letitia returned to the house shaking her head.  
She probably wanted to distribute the rest of the lunch to those who knew more about it.

"Mira, come fast," cried Aurelia, who, with Janus on her arm, stepped out of the villa. "Silla is having her child. The contractions have begun. We should help her."  
Mira sighed and Iras laughed. "You help Spartacus and the healer to care for the dying, prevent gladiators from breaking each other's noses or jaws, help out as a midwife and learn archery. This morning you helped with the laundry. What can't you do?"

  
Mira sighed. "Cooking! I can't cook very well. Unfortunately. I prefer to leave that to Letitia. She is overjoyed that she has a real kitchen at her disposal, at least for a short time."  
Mira rushed away to help the expectant mother at birth together with Aurelia.

**Capua Prison**

That evening the gods were to be on Duros and Pietro's side. It was already dawning when several soldiers, led by Aurelius, passed the passage in front of the cells. "Meeting in the dining room. The commander wants to give a speech. It's about the arrival of the praetor in a few days," the captain said, as more guards joined.

  
Apparently, only three men remained to guard the prisoners. What would they have feared? The cell doors were tightly locked and therefore an escape or attack on the guards was ruled out.

  
"Maybe I have an idea," Duro said quietly. "But the plan couldn't work either…“

  
He quickly informed Pietros of his plan. He looked at the other in doubt. "I don't really know... but when Glaber arrives in a few days... and can we trust the pirates? We can't talk to them beforehand…"

  
Duro shared Pietros doubts. The pirates would play a role in their escape. Unfortunately, the men didn't know about it yet. But he assumed that even these prisoners had no interest in staying in prison longer than necessary and being handed over to Glaber.

"Well, all alone," a voice from one of the other cells rang out. "Come a little bit into my cell, pretty Roman!"

  
Probably the one-eyed pirate spoke from the side cell. At least a guard in the morning had called him Vaelntinus the one-eyed.

  
The other pirates laughed in their cells. "He's definitely shy! And now his two comrades have gone upstairs. If I put my hand through the bars, I can touch him," shouted another pirate, and his comrades laughed again.

  
The soldier seemed to get nervous. "Silence, pirate. And if someone puts a hand out of the cell, I strike it off."

  
To make matters worse for the remaining guardian, he also heard a frightened outcry from one of the cells. He quickly looked into the cell from which the scream had come.  
"Let me go...," pleaded a desperate voice, and the soldier saw one of the prisoners lying on the ground, while the other knelt over him and placed his hands around the other's neck.

  
"You stole my food from me! There was bread today!" the prisoner shouted. "I'm going to kill you. I will not be robbed by a domestic slave!"

  
"Cursed Gladiator! You are all equal..." the other croaked, and looked at the guard, who stood inconclusively at the door, imploringly. "Please... he's still kills me…"  
As if to underline this statement, the gladiator clenched a fist and threatened to punch the other in the face while he continued to press against the house slave's neck with the other hand.

  
The Guardian knew that he would get into trouble if the prisoners killed each other. So he quickly pulled out the keychain with the cell keys and opened the door.  
The guard reached for the gladiator's arm, but to his surprise he let go of the house slave and in turn handed his apparent attacker a knife, which had previously been hidden by both bodies next to him.

  
With this knife, the gladiator stabbed the soldier in the thigh. The assailant quickly pulled the weapon out of the wound, while the other prisoner sat down, grabbed the soldier's other leg and dragged him to the ground.

  
The next moment, the soldier felt the gladiator's knife piercing his throat. He collapsed as the house slave sitting on the floor moved away from him.

Pietros got up and stared at the dead man as Duro pulled his knife from the man's neck. "He... 'It's dead,"" Pietros muttered, but then rushed to the cell door and pulled the keychain from the keyhole.

  
Duro turned to Pietros. "Are you doing well? Did I hurt you when I had my hands on your neck?"

  
Pietros shook his head. He was not injured. Duro had barely touched him, but it was enough to deceive the soldier. Apparently, their argument had been quite convincing. Apparently, this part of their plan had worked, even if he felt uncomfortable at the sight of the dead soldier.  
"I free the others," he said, rushing to the first door next to him.

  
Duro, on the other hand, got dizzy and leaned against the wall for a moment and closed his eyes. He hoped he would make it out of prison on his own legs.  
Meanwhile, all the pirates stood at their cell doors, impatiently pushing for their liberation as steps rushed down the stairs. Apparently, the guards on the floor above them had noticed something and wanted to support their comrade.

  
Just as Pietros opened the last door and freed the pirate Castus, the soldiers walked down the aisle and rushed towards the prisoners with their swords drawn.  
A pirate was immediately stabbed, but the last prisoner Pietros had freed slammed his elbow into one of the soldiers' stomachs and the man bent over, while another pirate punched him in the face.

The soldier fell to the ground and Castus took the man's sword and held it to his throat.  
"How many guards are there?" he asked, putting a foot on the soldier's chest, while one of the other pirates thrust Duro's knife into the back of the remaining soldier and gave it back to him as he left the cell, leaning against the wall.

"Thank you for borrowing," the pirate said with a grin.

"We were the only guards..." stammered the man lying on the ground. " There are still two guards at the gate. Everyone else is at the commander's address."

The pirate nodded and thrust the man's sword into his chest.

  
Pietros, meanwhile, rushed to Duro's side and he put an arm around his shoulder. "I help you," Pietros said, and Duro looked at him gratefully. 

The short fight had visibly exhausted him.

  
Meanwhile, the dark-skinned pirate turned to Pietros and Duro. "Well done. But now we should disappear here. By the way, my name was Castus."  
"Should we really take them with us?" asked one of Castus comrades, casting a disapproving glance at Duro and Pietros. "They will stop us."

Castus, on the other hand, punched the man in the arm, while another pirate took the second dead soldier's weapon in his hand. 

"We take them with us. Without them, we would still be sitting in our cells. And now we should disappear from here as soon as possible."

Aurelia lives in this story. She and her son Janus accompany the rebels. Let's see how long. And the rebels left the sewers here a little earlier.

The escape continues in the next chapter. Then Pietros has to make a decision.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the next chapter. It has become shorter. Have fun reading. And there is an 11th Kudo as well as a new bookmark. I celebrate every comment, every kudo and every bookmark. Thank you very much.

Capua Prison

Pietros and Duro followed the pirates up the stairs at some distance. Another corridor of empty cells stretched in front of them.

"Can you do it?" asked Pietros quietly, and Duro nodded as they reached the end of the stairs as the pirates opened the door to a room.  
"Food! Wine! It's probably a kind of lounge!" said the one-eyed pirate to Castus, and the four men entered the room, followed by Duro and Pietros.

In the sparsely furnished room, several chairs stood at a long table. On one of the chairs lay a crumpled typical red cape, which one of the guards had apparently left carelessly there.

"Someone will be annoyed tomorrow morning about thieves in the headquarters," Duro said, taking the cape. He might still need it, if only to warm up a little in the cool night.

Duro sat on one of the chairs while Pietros reached for a leather bag lying on the floor. The Romans really did not take too careful their personal belongings. On the table were a loaf of bread, a few apples, quinces and apricots.  
Pietros packed everything in his pocket and grabbed two leather drinking bottles lying on another chair. To his delight, they were filled with water.

"What are you doing?" asked Castus, who in turn dug into a box in a corner while one of his comrades emptied a cup of wine that was on the table. "There is nothing to find here. Unfortunately no coins or weapons.…"

"We need supplies," Pietros said, while Valentinus looked impatiently at the three and his weeping comrades. "We have to hurry. We do not know how long this speech will last. Soon the soldiers could return.

Valentinus shook his head and pointed to Duro. "He won't make it."

"I will make it," Duro disagreed.

"He will make it," Pietros also disagreed, but quietly he felt doubt when he saw how exhausted his former cellmate looked. What if Duro didn't make it alone? He didn't want to leave him behind…

Pietros reached for a second leather bag and stuffed fruit, bread and another water bottle into it. 

"You'll need that if you really want to go into the sewer to look for your brother and the others," he said softly to Duro, as Castus came to the aid and pulled one of Duro's arms around his shoulder. "We really should disappear from here."

They left the common room. Pietros carried the bags with the supplies and followed the others until they finally reached the gate to the court. Cool night air hit her, but Pietros enjoyed it. 

For too long he had not felt the fresh night air on his face.

"We have to get over it," Valentinus whispered impatiently, pointing to a gate on the other side of the square.

Two guards, dressed in Roman armor, stood on the wall next to the open gate and spoke to each other. They didn't seem to be too vigilant.

There was little chance of crossing the courtyard unseen, but the escaped prisoners tried to reach the gate along the shadow of the wall. But they managed only a small part of the way until one of the two guards became aware of them.

"What does this mean?" the first guard shouted and drew his sword, while the second guard cried out for reinforcements. "Quickly we need support, the prisoners are fleeing!"

A door was opened in the main building, and the pirates holding the three swords ran toward the two guards, while Castus, who had left his weapon to one of his comrades, quietly cursed. "We should hurry. You're too slow!" he said to Duro, and before he could reciprocate, Castus pulled him over his shoulder and, as soon as he could, followed the other pirates.

Pietros, in turn, took the knife out of Duro's hand, and in a possible fight he could use it better at the moment.

By now, the first three pirates had reached the gate and were involved in a brief battle with the guards. Pietros saw the men fall to the ground, but one of the two pirates also grabbed his chest and collapsed.

"Xerxes!" muttered Castus. "Now only Valentinus, Solon and I are left.... we have to get to the meeting point quickly.…"

Castus reached his comrades at the gate and they left the courtyard of the headquarters as soon as possible. Valentinus kicked the gate, even though he knew it wouldn't stop the chasers for long.

The nocturnal streets of Capua lay in front of them and soon the soldiers of the city guard would probably also take up the persecution with horses.

"I... can run," Duro said, meanwhile, but Castus laughed briefly. 'You can't do that. At least not fast enough."

"But..." Duro disagreed, but Castus interrupted him.

"The wrong time for false pride. So don't complain. When I carry you, we move faster than if one of us has to support you…"

Duro apparently realized that Castus was right and silent with his words, while Pietros looked around to see if the soldiers had already left the headquarters. Perhaps there was still time to hide in the streets of Capua.

"You spoke of a meeting place," he said to Castus after a while as they scurried into a narrow alley.

The pirate nodded. "Yes, close to the market…"

Pietros nodded. "That's where Duro and I have to go. We... want to go into the sewers…"

He was silent and didn't know if it was right to tell the pirate so much. He didn't know him at all, even though they were a community of purpose at the moment.

They heard footsteps and loud screams. Then the horse sounded, but no one turned into the alley where they hid. Pietros breathed a serene breath while Castus dropped Duro off his shoulder and helped him lean against a wall of the house on the floor.

Solon and Valentinus looked at Castus impatiently. "We now have to decide which way we want to go!"  
Valentinus reached for the arm of the other pirate. "We have to meet with the others at the designated meeting point. There is still time. Tomorrow at the latest, they will leave the city without us and return to Heracleo."

Valentinus turned to Duro and Pietros. "We are grateful to you for helping us escape. But either you accompany us to the meeting point, preferably without stopping us. Or our paths separate here."

"I have to go into the sewers," Duro Pietros whispered, pulling him to the ground by the arm next to him. "Do you want to accompany me?"

But hadn't he asked too much of the other? He knew Pietros didn't really want to meet with the gladiators. He was afraid of it. And how safe was it to go down this path? He did not know whether Agron, Spartacus and the others were there at all or had ever been there.

Wouldn't it be safer for Pietros to go with the pirates? At the same time, he realized that he would find it difficult to say goodbye.

"You should come with us," Castus said. "It would be safer for you than walking around in the sewer. It's a labyrinth and strange people are drifting around. Criminals dispose of their dead there, other criminals do their business and who knows who is still there. Every now and then the Romans search for wanted criminals there. Sometimes they find what they are looking for. There are even stories about... Monster. I don't think so, but…"

"I don't do it either," Duro said softly, addressing Pietros in particular. "But I have to find my brother.…"

To hell with your brother!" Castus cursed softly.

Duro looked at him badly.

"Yes, I know you want to find your brother," Pietros replied, looking from Duro at Castus, who reached for his shoulder. "You should really think about it. If you can't dissuade your friend from his plan, you should think as soon as possible about what you want to do."

He gave Pietros a compassionate smile. "I'm sorry that you have to make a decision so quickly. But we don't have much time. We must hurry up. And do you even know where you're going to get into the sewers?"

To Duro's surprise, Pietros nodded. "I know."

Duro saw that Pietros was struggling with himself. Wouldn't it really be better for both to accompany Castus and the others? They could at least get them out of town. But wouldn't that worsen his chances of finding Agron and the others? No, his decision was clear. He went into the sewers. Even alone. 

But he also did not want to leave Pietros and leave him with the pirates…

But was that also the best decision for Pietros? Wouldn't he be safer with the pirates? Castus, though a pirate, did not seem to be the worst choice to offer some protection. Unlike him, Duro, Castus could at least fight.

"I... go with Duro..." said Pietros after a moment of hesitation, and Duro felt a great relief. But did this decision not put Pietros in danger? 

"You have to decide for yourself," Castus said with a sigh, giving Pietros a friendly smile. "It's a pity. You would have liked the pirate life. A life on the ship is not bad. You see a lot of the world…"

"Castus, don't flirt with the boy. We really don't have time for that," Valentinus said, animating, nodding goodbye to Pietros and Duro. "Good luck."

He and Solon rushed away and Castus pushed Pietros and Duro back on the shoulder. "I wish you both the best of luck. Don't let the Romans capture you again. I don't like to leave you both behind.…"

"Thank you for your help," Duro said goodbye, while Pietros gave the other a grateful smile. "It is not far to the entrance to the sewer I wish you all the best. Watch out for you…"

Castus nodded, gave Pietros another smile, and then followed his two comrades.

"You would have been safer with him," Duro said after a while. "You also liked him…"

Pietros shook his head. "At the moment, it might be safer. But I don't want to live under pirates. And there are probably many of them who are not like him. Murderers, cutters, rapists and fraudsters. Pirates. And what the other is... there is no one but Barca. I swore and meant it seriously. It doesn't matter if I like Castus or not. In addition.... but it doesn't matter."

Duro rose and heard the voices of the soldiers from afar.

"How do you know the entrance to the canal?" he asked Pietros, who took the two bags of supplies and hung them over his shoulder. Duro would have liked to have taken one of the bags and helped him carry them, but Pietros refused.

"Barca told me where there is an entrance. He was often there when he had something to do for Batiatus. I never asked what it was, and he didn't say it. But he told me about the sewers and I was often enough at the market and once searched for the entrance out of curiosity. That's why I know. But I don't know anything about the sewers... Barca said the same thing Castus said. You can get lost there…"

Duro, meanwhile, continued to wonder whether Pietros had made the right decision.

In the early hours of the morning, the soldiers returned, and shortly afterwards Commander Drusus sat exhausted on his bed. The men had failed to track down the escaped prisoners and return them to prison.

All his plans to hand over the captured pirates, the gladiator and the house slaves to the praetor had failed. He could not even punish those responsible for the escape for their failure, because they were dead.

Of course, there was still hope of recapturing the refugees. This was certainly more difficult for the pirates, but the other two prisoners were in a weakened state.

Weeks of captivity and, in one case, a slowly healing injury, had eaten at the forces of the two and would make their escape more difficult. Would the pirates help them? Drusus couldn't really imagine it.

Where would they flee? Were there allies somewhere in Capua? Did they know where their comrades were hiding? 

"I was too tame with them! I should have had it beaten by the two of them. Glaber will tear me apart when he learns that the few I have already caught have escaped!" he cursed as he dropped his weapons to the ground.

His head injury still caused him problems and he thought again about the suggestion Aurelius had made to him.

The centurion had proposed to procure two slaves and burn the sign of Batiatus in their arms. Should Glaber believe that the two were the prisoners. Surely some slaves could be pretended to be pirates…

But Drusus quickly rejected the plan. Glaber would probably not be so easily deceived, and by the time he interrogated the prisoners at the latest, the truth would come out. 

No, that was not the solution. He would have to stand by his failure and hope that this would not have too serious consequences for him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. This time Lucretia gets another unsolicited visit, which she probably won't get rid of as quickly as last time. Pietros and Duro tell their life story so far. A rather quiet chapter. It's not too much known, so I came up with something. I wish you a lot of fun reading.

It was morning and Lucretia was sitting at breakfast when loud noises frightened her. It sounded as if objects were being thrown to the ground and someone was moving boxes and furniture.

"Damaris, what a terrible noise is that?" she asked, annoyed as she looked at her slave.

Damaris left the room to search for the cause of the noise, although she was obviously more afraid and worried than her dominadily. Lucretia rose with a sigh. She really had to pay attention to the girl so as not to scare her too much.

How much she sometimes missed Melitta, but also Mira and sometimes even Naevia. These young women were nowhere near as sensitive and frightened as Damaris.

Something broke and Lucretia was now worried. She opened the door and called for her bodyguard. "Matay!"

But apparently Matay had already become aware of the noise, and when Lucretia looked closely at what was the cause, she saw that her bodyguard was busy pushing a soldier out of the front door.

Cornelius also stood in the room and held his hands.

"Disappear here! We don't expect a visit! And take all the stuff back!" the Syrian demanded, anguiwing, while Damaris stood anxiously in a corner.

Next to her were three men in the room who had towed several boxes and chests and stacked them in the entrance area. "But our Dominus and the Domina have said that we …"

"The dominaia in this house is called Lucretia and she didn't mention anything we see visitors," Matay replied to one of the men, who was apparently a slave.

"What does that mean?" Lucretia intervened, while Ashur joined in and helped Matay in his attempt to drive away the unsolicited visit.

One of the slaves looked humbly to the ground as Lucretia approached him. "I apologize. But I was tasked with ensuring that the move-in went smoothly and…“

What does this mean? Who moves in?" asked Lucretia, while Ashur and Matay were pushed aside by several soldiers. 

  
"We are moving in here, dear Lucretia," a cold voice rang out, and Lucretia saw Glaber, who, followed by his wife Ilithyia, entered the house uninvited.

"Your house is conveniently located. It is excellent for my purposes and is a suitable accommodation for me and my dear wife, as long as I have to do my work here as a pretor!" said Glaber and Ilithyia nodded approvingly. "Beautiful to see you, Lucretia. You see... very good from... so healthy…"  
"This is not your merit," Lucretia thought, while Matay took a questioning look at his Domina.

"Should I remove him from the house?" he asked, reaching for a dagger that he always carried with him by his belt.   
Glaber gave him and Ashur a glimpse. "If your Syrian guards are not to rot in prison or die on the cross, keep them on a leash, my dear.

"I... I'd love to lie down a little bit, Gaius," Ilithyia said, and Lucretia looked at the other woman more closely. Ilithyia didn't look good at all. She was pale and she didn't seem comfortable.

"Yes, sure, you and my heir should rest," said Glaber almost kindly, turning to Lucretia, who processed the last words.

So Ilithyia was expecting a child and the pregnancy did not seem to be easy for her.

"I brought some slaves," Glaber said. "They will be in the service of my wife and me. You have enough place. Please show them where the rooms are located... and some of my men also need to be accommodated.…"

Lucretia felt the desire to cling to a pillar with a bust of her beloved late husband. "I didn't invite you," she hissed angrily, and Glaber approached her.  
"Lucretia, I took over the patronage of your Ludus at that time. You were very interested in it....and I would strongly advise you not to lose a word about the circumstances of that time. You should also come to terms with our presence. After all, you should also remember that the slaves who cause so much trouble have fled from your Ludus and from your household! This cursed Spartacus.…"

Lucretia shrugged as Glaber grabbed her arm and pressed him awkwardly. Matay took a step towards the praetor and she almost feared he would attack him.

The idea of her bodyguard transporting the uninvited guest out and throwing him outside was tempting, but she also knew that such an action would have nasty consequences. First for Matay and probably for herself.

So she gave Matay a hand signal and stopped him from coming to her aid.

"What do you and your wife really want from me?" she asked softly, and the praetor smiled at her almost kindly before letting go of her arm, on which his handprint was drawn.

"Only your hospitality, dearest Lucretia."

**Sewerage under Capua**

  
Elsewhere, two escaped slaves also had a sparse breakfast. The surroundings were far from pleasant. It stank, it was gloomy and the ground they were sitting on was hard and cold.

The extended Roman cloak on which they sat did little to change this fact. In addition, both were tired and exhausted after the long night and the exhausting escape.

Nevertheless, Pietros felt better than in the weeks before.   
The sewers were at least as uncomfortable the prison cell and the smells were worse. But despite everything, he was finally free. Duro, who was sitting next to him, seemed to share this view.

He cut one of the apricots with his knife and handed Pietros half.

This breakfast seemed to be a real luxury after the dry and hard bread, the disgusting broth and the stale water of the last few weeks.

The bread Pietros had taken in the guard's lounge was still soft and fresh. So they had enjoyed a little more of it. Eventually, both wanted and had to regain a little more strength, and this included, among other things, reasonably reasonable food.

They had found their way into the sewers without encountering Roman soldiers, and found, to their relief, that some of these corridors were lit with torches. Unfortunately, this also meant that other people were there more or less regularly.

Eventually, they had reached part of the sewer, where there were no more torches. They had camped there for the rest of the night. They had actually managed to find a little sleep.

By now the day had dawned and the sun had risen.

Due to some cracks in the ceiling, daylight fell into the sewer ducts of the sewersystem. Apparently they were drains that served as rainwater rains, thus protecting the roads from flooding.

Luckily it wasn't raining at the moment, so they were in the dry. "We can get through with the supplies for a few days if we use them sparingly," Pietros said as he laid the apricot kernel next to him on the floor.

It wasn't the only waste there, so the core probably wouldn't stand out. "But how should we find the others? Castus and Barca were right. This is almost a labyrinth. As in this story with this Minotaur…"

"Unfortunately, I don't know the story," Duro admitted. "We also had our stories in Germania. But I haven't heard of a Minotaur. What is that?

"A mixture of bull and man living in a labyrinth," Pietros replied. "The story was told by a slave in the house of my second dominus.…"

"How many houses have you lived or worked for?" asked Duro sympathetically. "You haven't had it easy, haven't you?"

Pietros shrugged. 'I didn't know any other way. My mother was Egyptian, but she had been a slave since childhood. I don't even know my father, he was probably a house slave who died at some point. This must have happened before I was born."

"Is your mother still alive?" asked Duro, and Pietros gave the other a sad look. "No, she's not alive anymore. When I was four years old, the household was dissolved and my mother sold. Along with a few furniture and a few other slaves. But her new domina didn't want to have children in the house. So they sold me somewhere else. I stayed there until I was twelve. That's when I learned that my mother had died."

"I'm sorry," Duro said, regretfully. "It was certainly hard for you."  
Pietros remained silent for a moment while they heard a rustle from a distance. Presumably a rat crawled around.

Duro took one of the leather bags on his lap. He didn't want the rats to get into their supplies.

"It wasn't easy," Pietros continued. „But I barely remembered her. In the household where I lived for a while, there was another Egyptian. She told me stories about the Nile, a great river in Egypt. And she spoke of the pharaohs and the pyramids. She also secretly taught me a little bit of language. And then I was sold again. I had to work on the field for a while. It was really hard and there was a brutal overseer. He didn't like me and I had to take some blows. I often imagined that the Nile crocodiles that the Egyptian told me would eat him. Eventually I was allowed to continue working in the house, but my dominus always threatened to send me to the mines. I stayed there for a few years. Then he sold me to Batiatus and I came to the Ludus."

"And you have no other relatives?" asked Duro, grateful that his life and childhood had gone differently, even though he and Pietros were now in the same situation.

"No, and if i do, I don't know about it. Maybe my father had more children before he became a slave. But I don't even know his name or which country he came from," Pietros replied sadly, and Duro was already sorry to have asked.

He himself had known his parents and many of his relatives, and the memory and knowledge that he would probably not see them again was painful, but nevertheless he was glad that he knew the members of his family and at least some knew that they were probably doing well.

"What about your family? You weren't always a slave, wasn't you?" asked Pietros, and Duro shook his head. "No. I have even spent most of my life in freedom. In Germania, at my tribe. It was quite a large village for Germanic conditions and we were actually doing quite well."

"And why do you speak our language so well?" asked Pietros. "Did you learn this only after you became a slave?"

"No," Duro replied. "My grandmother, my mother's mother, was not originally from Germania. Her father's family came from a country further south. Her mother came from Germania, but from another tribe, further south. My great-grandfather and his family have lived off the trade and have come around a lot. They also acted with the Romans. After all, they were in Germania and met members of my tribe and grandmother got to know my grandfather and stayed with him. Her family wasn't happy about it, but she prevailed. Her parents were no longer alive and her brother was the head of the family. He wanted to prevent her from becoming his wife. He would have preferred to choose a Roman man for her, but she did not want to. Against this she fought back with her hands and feet and finally asserted her will. Perhaps it was also because my grandfather threatened her brother with a spear that my great-uncle eventually allowed her to stay."

Duro grinned. "Yes, that was my grandfather. He went nowhere without his spear and he was the best fighter in the village with this weapon. My grandmother spoke very good Latin. She always believed that Rome would continue to grow. She taught the language to her only daughter, Hilda. Later she taught us, her two grandchildren. She thought it could be useful. I would have preferred to have learned the language from her father's homeland. But she thought this was unnecessary because she did not want to see her family, especially her brother, again. She never forgave him that he was looking for a Roman husband for her and did not want to have a say in her. When my brother and later I were born, she suggested our names. She had heard them somewhere on their travels and she liked them. My parents also liked the names, so we got names that don't happen too often with our tribe."

Duro fondly remembered his grandmother and he loved the stories she had told him about her travels as a child. Unfortunately, his maternal grandparents had died of fever just before the age of ten, during a harsh winter that had also killed other villagers.

As a child, he often found it annoying that she insisted on learning the Latin language. His father, Willo, had also made fun of it. What should his sons do with it? But his wife and mother-in-law had prevailed, and in the end Duro was grateful to them. 

That them understood the language of the Romans had later made things easier for them, even if the deceased grandmother had probably not imagined in her worst nightmares that her beloved grandchildren could one day become slaves of the Romans.

"Is your family still alive?" asked Pietros. "I can't really imagine living with many relatives."

Duro thought of his family. Rough but at the same time cordial people. He thought of his mother, who comforted him as a child after a nightmare, and of his father, who taught him and his brother to hunt. Life had been hard and sometimes there were disputes with other tribes. Nevertheless, he had always felt safe and secure in the midst of his relatives, cared for by his parents and his not so much older brother.

"There were also frequent disputes. My father had three brothers and a sister. One of the brothers lived with us in the village, the others a day trip away. My uncle had three sons, they were born close together and a little older than my brother. There were also many children in the village," Duro recalled of his former life. "My father and uncle argued over every little thing. And in the evening they sat together and played with their dice cups. They then argued about it. My brother always argued with our youngest cousin, who was closest to him in old age. I didn't like my eldest cousin. He always referred to me as an annoying bellows and tried to dislodge me with kicks. Then he got into an argument with my brother and finally my father and uncle also argued. My aunt and mother are desperate for us many times."

He grinned. "We are a somewhat controversial clan. But basically we all love each other. Then there was my grandfather, my father's father. He lived with us and enjoyed having all his grandchildren around him and telling stories of his exploits. Allegedly, he chased away an enemy tribe alone, and there were no dragons left in the forest because he defeated them all. Until I was seven, I believed that."

Pietros took another sip from his water bottle. "And how did you get to Capua?"

Duro's smile disappeared. 'It's not a nice memory. There were disputes with the Romans and another tribe on the other side of the Rhine, which is a great river, asked us for help. The men of our clan, including me, joined the other warriors. My father, my uncle, my cousins, my brother and I, along with others, got into a fight with the Romans. We were hopelessly inferior and we had to retreat. The last time I saw my father was when my uncle and one of his sons carried him away after a spear hit him on the leg. They probably managed to escape, as did my two cousins, although one of them was bleeding from the arm. Agron could have escaped, but he wanted to help me after Being surrounded by several Romans…"

"And then you came to Capua," Pietros concluded the story for Duro, while he gave the other a sad look. "After a few detours and a few intermediate stops. For a while we stayed in Germania. It was quickly concluded that we did not own ourselves as domestic slaves and for a short time we received an education of a Ludus in Germania. But this could not be compared to the training at Batiatus. And at some point it took us first by land and then on a ship to Capua. And I hate ships. Most of the time I had to hand myself over. If it goes after me, I will never enter one again."

"Then you probably wouldn't have become a good pirate and it was better that we didn't go with Castus," Pietros said, adding, "I'm sorry what happened to you. You probably miss your family and your home…"

"Of course I miss them. I also don't know what happened to my father and how bad his injury was. I hope he was able to return to my mother. Otherwise, she has no one but her old father-in-law. But I wasn't alone. I had my brother. Luckily. And I am grateful to him for never accusing me of being in captivity because of me." I have often reproached myself for this. Duro replies thoughtfully. "Actually, we always wanted to go back home when one day we have the opportunity. We swore at the time that we would return together. But that is unlikely to happen for the time being. Maybe Agron will return without me. He thinks I'm dead. But I rather believe that he will stay with Spartacus and the others, at least for the time being. Life as a gladiator was easier for him than me, and he now had the opportunity to fight against the Romans. That's what he always wanted. Me, too, should I ever be able to do it again…"

Pietros handed Duro the water bottle and he also took a sip, but then returned it to Pietros. They had to use their supplies sparingly, because the water that flowed through the canals was dirty and stank. They couldn't drink it.

They would probably smell the same if they left the sewers.  
Duro got up. "We should set out if we want to find the others. Hopefully they're still here. If ever they were here. I don't know where else to look for them. If the Romans have not been able to find them so far, then I do not know if we can."

Pietros also got up and Duro's gaze fell on the forearm of the other. "I noticed this from the very beginning, when we met. You wear the sign that only the gladiators wear…"

Pietros shrugged and Duro almost regretted asking. "No pleasant memory?"

Pietros shook his head. "No. Isn't it. I didn't deserve the brand in any way. Actually I shouldn't have it at all and it happened out of malice... but I don't like to talk about it...Most of the others know the story..." 

The situation that led to this fire sign had been one of the few reasons why he had almost got into an argument with Barca, because it had actually been intended as an act of revenge against him.…

"Well, you don't have to tell it if you don't want to," Duro replied, and he took one of the bags, though Pietros disagreed. "I also wear one. They are not that heavy. In addition, I may want to fight the Romans again at some point. Then at least I should be able to carry a bag of fruit and bread, otherwise nothing will come of it."

Their conversation fell silent and both stopped motionless when they heard steps approaching them.

They looked around for a hiding place and just managed to retreat into one of the outgoing corridors.

  
**I came up with a short backstory for Pietros and Duro. It never really became clear where they came from. Or where Pietros has the B on his arm. I have also come up with something to this and this is also mentioned. I have given Agron and Duro a great-grandfather from a southern country who come from names, at least in the present day, rather from the southern part of Europe. That's why in this story, the grandmother, who has come a long way around, has brought her into the family. Hilda and Willo, the names of the parents, are names that could well be located in the Germanic area, although the Germanic at that time (and there were probably several languages and dialects) is very different from today's German.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new, unfortunately somewhat shorter chapter. You'll meet another character from the series. So have fun reading. Hope, you like it.

**Sewerage of Capua**

The strangers approached and then Duro and Pietros, who pushed themselves against the wall in one of the many side arms of the canal system, heard voices. They hoped it was not a Roman patroullie looking for them.

"I used to think I'd heard something," said one man. "But it was probably just rats. I thought we'd come across this Slave scum again!"

"Fortunately, they are no longer here. They disappeared some time ago. Although I saw one of them the day before yesterday. He also carried the mark out of this cursed house," answered another voice.

Apparently they were only two men, not a patroullie.

Duro took a step forward. He wanted to understand more of what the men were talking about. Did they know where Agron, Spartacus and the others were?

"You mean this Syrian, Ashur? He only ever asks questions. He is looking for his former gladiator brothers. I don't think he has any good intentions with them. But he pays well!" the other stranger's reply rang out and a laugh rang out.  
"Yes, he pays really well. I think he hates the others. What did they do to him? Unfortunately, I couldn't tell him anything, because I didn't know anything. The slaves were already gone. But sooner or later he will surely find what he is looking for."

"Unfortunately, I don't know where the gladiators are. Otherwise I would betray It to Ashur, the city commander or even the new praetor," his companion replied. "It's up to who pays the most."

The voices were removed and Duro would have liked to have turned the neck of the two men. Were they so easily willing to betray others?

"I'm glad they didn't see us," Pietros said with relief. "They would certainly betray their own relatives for money and would certainly have betrayed us or dragged us directly to Glaber."  
His gaze darkened. "Or to Ashur!"

"They should have tried that," Duro muttered, feeling a great disappointment. So the others apparently were no longer in the sewer. 

He sat down in the ground and closed his eyes in frustration as Pietros went into the squat next to him. 'I'm sorry they're gone. At least we now know that they had been here for a while." 

Duro did not answer. Instead, he fought back against the tears that threatened to blow him in the eye. They had come too late. His hope of finding the others in this place had been low from the outset. Nevertheless, he had held on to this faint hope.

He didn't know what to do next.

Pietros seemed to notice how his companion felt. He put one arm around Duro's shoulders and he leaned his head against the other's shoulder. Until now, he had always resisted allowing such moments of weakness, even though he had often been close enough to it.

He wiped his eyes while Pietros briefly pressed him. Duro allowed the consolation of the other and he was glad that he was not alone in this place. The loneliness, while he was still in the headquarters, had caused him the most pain and interrogation by Aurelius, and it had even been a relief to leave the comparatively comfortable hospital ward and exchange it with a prison cell.

Duro was used to being in other people's company from a young age, and he liked it the most. At least if they were friends or family. He was glad that Pietros was by his side, even if the other also did not know what to do next.

After a moment, Duro turned to Pietros and tried to dispel his disappointment. Pietros was not a warrior and also younger than him. Wasn't it really his job to protect the other?

"First of all, we should see that we find an exit down here that takes us out of the city. Spartacus said that there had to be such a thing and that the Romans would not control everything. I don't know where he knew it from. Maybe even from your Barca...you said that he knew this place very well?"

Pietros nodded and got up while Duro also stood up.

  
**Villa of a noble Roman**

  
Tiberius looked through the shopping list of his Dominus and ticked off the things that the other slaves had bought at the market. Fortunately, nothing was missing, because this would have got the slaves in charge of the purchase into trouble.

But mostly everything worked smoothly and his dominus rarely had reason to complain. At least he would have had no reason. Unfortunately, he sometimes suffered from choleric seizures and then he was already irritated by small things.

Tiberius and Chadara, the dominus's two favorite slaves, had long ago learned to adjust to their lord's whims, so they rarely felt his anger. 

In most cases, their lives were comparatively pleasant, unlike that of other slaves.

Chadara, a young woman, joined Tiberius. "The Dominus wants to see us both tonight!"

Tiberius nodded in silence. It often happened that he and Chadara, sometimes even one of them, spent the evening in the bedroom of the Dominus. This was part of her remit and meant nothing else for him or for the young blonde slave. 

A task of many... He had said this to himself time and again in the past.

It took them a while to get used to this circumstance of sharing the bed of their dominus on instruction.

Wasn't it really something that lovers shared? But both had to come to terms with the fact that there was no such thing as love for them and that this circumstance would never change.

Physical closeness and intimacy were an annoying job, and both Tiberius, who once had a different name as a child, and Chadara, who could not remember another name, had learned to satisfy the needs of their dominus in the best possible way.

They knew how to satisfy him best and the fastest. This meant that their work was usually finished quickly and they were allowed to retreat to their rooms while their dominus slept peacefully.

"He wants us to come to him cleanly. We should bathe beforehand," Chadara said with a sigh. "Like every time. But he bought new fragrance oils. He wants us to smell it like roses tonight."

Tiberius nodded to the other slave with which he had befriended over time. "Bath first. I still have to discuss with the cook the menu of the Dominus for the next week."

Chadara wanted to go, but turned around again. "Did you hear about the raid on the two villas last week? I'm a bit scared of that. What if they also attack us and are then held responsible for it? You have also seen what happened to the slaves in Capua. And we don't have a bad life here... we are well looked after …"

They remembered very well the crucified slaves to whom their Dominus had alerted them at the gates of Capua. The sight had been terrifying.

Tiberius looked up from his list and then placed it on a table before trying to calm Chadara down. "Don't worry. The villa is finally guarded. For us, everything will continue as before.…"

Some of him had come to terms with this circumstance, but another part of him was not happy about it. He had learned this part to suppress. It would never change.

Familiar steps approached and the dominus entered the room. He put his arm around Tiberius and Chadara's shoulder and pressed a kiss on the neck one after the other.

After all, neither should feel neglected. "You should bathe now and use the beautiful oils. And don't let me wait that long, I want to see you after dinner. 

"Yes, Dominus," Chadara and Tiberius said.

He turned to Tiberius. "I've put up more guards at the gate. There have been raids by criminals in the area. Slaves, who are severely punished when they are captured, turned against their masters. But it's good that you're with me. They would never allow anyone to hurt me. I was always good to you and you would protect me, wouldn't you?“

The two slaves nodded and their dominus squeezed a kiss on their hair.

He left the room and Chadara and Tiberius took care of him before the young black-haired man took care of his list again. This task had to be done first.

Neither the two slaves nor their dominus knew that mischief was brewing near the villa, while he was looking forward to a good dinner and an amusing evening with his two favorite slaves.

He smiled contemptuously. 

With these two it would be much more pleasant than with this outrageous slave Naevia, whom his old friend Batiatus had sent him shortly before his tragic death. In the meantime, she was no longer in his house. He had quickly grown weary of her.

He had no idea that in a few hours he would have wished he had never met the young slave.

  
**A little short, I know. Next time it will be longer.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we continue with a new chapter. So have fun reading. And I'm happy with the new Kudos, subscriptions and comments. I hope you continue to like the story.

**Villa of a rich Roman**

  
Some slaves huddled in a corner in horror as Spartacus and his gladiators entered the villa. They had previously managed to overpower the guards at the gate and now they began to search the villa.

"Where's the Dominus?" Crixus asked an elderly man who looked to the ground unsettled but then pointed to the right. "In his....bedroom."

Crixus nodded to Rhaskos and Agron, who dragged a Roman guard through the room, while Spartacus asked the slaves to gather in the entrance area, but assured them that nothing bad would happen to them.

Nevertheless, the slaves looked suspiciously at the invaders.

A few moments later, Spartacus and Crixus entered the dominus's bedroom. This was a dark-haired middle-aged man whose tunic had slipped. Apparently, the two former gladiators had surprised him and disturbed him during his evening pleasure with his slaves.

The dominus of the villa was terrified of the intruders and he pushed a young man and a young woman.   
It almost seemed as if he was trying to hide behind the two as the two men approached him.   
"Not..." the Roman asked, and pressed his two only half-clothed slaves, they wore collars on their necks, so they were obviously slaves, even firmer to themselves, and the young woman whimpered.

Apparently he hurt her, but this didn't seem to bother him any further.

"Spartacus, leave it to me. He certainly knows something about Naevia," Crixus said, and the two slaves looked at Spartacus in particular. Apparently they had already heard this name.

The same was true of the Dominus, who also whimpered when Spartacus and his companion quickly overpowered him and freed the two slaves from his clutch.  
"Get out, go to the others," Crixus told them, and the girl cast an anxious glance at him.

"Crixus..." Spartacus admonished the other, because he did not want to frighten the slaves unnecessarily. .   
But Crisux was not interested in the black-haired young man and the blonde girl. He only had eyes for the Dominus, which they suspected he might have known where Naevia was. Maybe she was even in the villa? The gladiators also searched for her and questioned the slaves of the villa.  
"He will tell me what he knows," Crixus said, and he pressed his sword to the dominus's throat. "Where is Naevia?"

"T... this slave... she... stammered the Dominus and then shouted out loud: "Tiberius! Help me…"

Apparently he called for one of his slaves, but Spartacus left the room and closed the door behind him.   
He would leave Crixus alone when questioning the man and prevent any slaves or possibly surviving guards from coming to the Aid of dominus.

  
Tiberius and Chadara went to the other house slaves. On the way, several intruders encountered her. Some of them scoured the chests. In the meantime, some women, who apparently belonged to the strangers, had also entered the villa. 

Two of them were armed with bow and arrow and spoke to one of the men. He looked in his and Chadara's direction as they walked past him and their eyes briefly met. 

A big man, green eyes…

Chadara reached for his arm and pulled him behind him, and Tiberius quickly forgot the stranger when he saw several dead guards lying in the courtyard of the villa. He wondered what this former gladiator, Crixus, would do with his dominus.

Crixus had spoken of Naevia, a young woman who had been brought to the villa not so long ago.

That night her Dominus had been very dissatisfied and had the young woman soon brought out of the room.   
Instead, he had called chadara, and she had, she told Tiberius afterwards, had had great trouble to calm him down. 

Apparently he had not enjoyed the crying young woman. 

Tiberius had secretly brought a little water and leftovers from dinner to her when she was locked up in the basement of the villa. 

She had been sorry for him and he had also provided her with a warm blanket for the night. He could not do more, even with the few he could already draw the wrath of his dominus.  
What this meant, especially in his younger years, he had to learn more often….

Shortly afterwards, Naevia was taken away and Tiberius did not know where to go. The slave, originally from Syria, had often wondered what had become of her.

Was Crixus a friend of hers looking for her? Was he her husband? But even though he had pity for Naevia, he could not feel sympathy for the strangers who raided the villa. 

They proceeded very indecently, had killed several people and did not seem to care what would become of the slaves of the villa. Another man approached the two slaves and he gave Chadara a broad smile. 

"Rejoice, you are free now," he said, and she stopped next to him.

"I'm Rhaskos," he said, grinning at her. She answered his smile. "I am Chadara…"

Tiberius reached for her hand and pulled her behind her. She didn't know anything about this Rhaskos and it was certainly not right to encourage him to get too close to her.

But Chadara seemed to see it differently, as she looked again at Rhaskos and Tiberius sighed. He wanted to say something when the man, whose green eyes had struck him earlier, approached and spoke to Rhaskos.  
Rhaskos pointed grinningatly at Tiberius and Chadara, and the other looked in the direction shown. But he seemed to have no interest in the pretty blonde slave. Instead, his gaze met again with that of Tiberius.

Tiberius stopped for a little too long, then turned away. Why did this stranger care about him in the first place? He wanted nothing to do with these escaped gladiators, and especially with their leader Spartacus. 

Eventually, he had put the slaves of the villa in great danger. So what should become of them? 

If the worst happens, the domestic slaves would also be held responsible for the attack and the deaths and punished accordingly. They would be executed, and it would be a terrible death that they would suffer. 

If it went well, they would be resold and everything Tiberius had worked out in this budget was in vain. 

Maybe they would send him to the field or to the mines. And his dominus was a choleric, but Tiberius had adjusted to his whims. He didn't know who would buy it.   
Perhaps his new lord was far worse than his present one. 

Could he and the other slaves of the villa perhaps expect a little mercy from the Romans if he did something about Spartacus and proved that they had nothing to do with the raid?

He didn't like the idea. But he and the other slaves were so helpless about the current situation. 

He had felt so helpless as a child when, on a slave ship, he was pulled out of his older brother's arms and taken away. Despite his five years, he had understood quite quickly that no one cared that he longed for his brother and the rest of his family, whom he no longer really remembered.

Instead, others who were not sympathetic to him decided his fate, and in the end he had no choice but to come to terms with the situation if he did not want to risk blows.

And now they were at the mercy of these gladiators. What would they expect from them? Should they serve them? Fighting with them – and dying? Because that is what it would sooner or later come down to.

He had to do something.…

**Sewerage of Capua**

Throughout the day, Duro and Pietros had been searching the sewer for an exit that would take them out of Capua. They had to take a break several times, because Duro was still tired quite quickly and Pietros also felt exhausted faster than before, before his captivity.

Nevertheless, they had made quite good progress and were now at a fork in the road. 

Luckily it was dry at this point and they decided to spend the night at this place, especially as it gradually became too dark to continue. In one of the other corridors a torch had burned and they had hurried to leave it. There was too great a risk of meeting people they did not want to meet.

Pietros believed he felt a draught. Were they approaching an exit? The fresh air seemed to come out of the left aisle, while the other was densely covered with cobwebs. Apparently, no one had walked there for years.

But there were some bigger stones on the ground, so they decided to spend the night at this place. They didn't want to risk wandering around in the dark and hurting themselves in the event of a possible fall.

Their sleeping place was cold and uncomfortable, yet both managed to fall asleep quite quickly. They hoped that around this time no one else would be in this area of sewerage, but there was a danger.

So they decided to take turns keeping watch.

But both were too exhausted and so Pietros, who had wanted to take over the first guard, fell asleep shortly after Duro.

Only in the morning, the first rays of light penetrated through some drains in the ceiling into the darkness, Pietros was startled.

It was cold and he got up to move a little bit.   
Wind blew towards him from one of the two corridors and he smiled. He hoped that there was the longed-for exit from this place, which had in fact almost proved to be a labyrinth.  
Duro also awoke and sat down. 

He looked at Pietros reproachfully. "You should have awakened me."

With a bad conscience, Pietros struggled to tell the truth. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep myself and only recently woke up. We are lucky that no one but we was here…"

Duro didn't seem to be angry with him. Instead, he got up and rolled up the red coat they had used as a base. By now, the red fabric was dirty.

'Nothing happened, we were lucky. And at least we're both asleep now, "Duro replied, and Pietros pointed to the path from which the light came in and the air blew.  
"We should look for an exit. And then watch that we leave Capua far behind."

"Yes, we should," Duro muttered, but wasn't really happy with that decision. 

Didn't they miss the last chance to find the others? But what other option did they have?   
If they stayed close to the city, they would sooner or later be taken up. They also had to find a way to get rid of their collars. Thus they were recognizable everywhere as escaped slaves.

They walked a few steps into the left aisle. The light became brighter and they thought they could hear the chirping of birds.  
But then they both stopped when they heard voices from several men. Apparently someone approached the entrance into the sewer from the outside…

The men spoke Latin and they heard the steps of heavy Roman boots. Apparently they were soldiers.

"Captain Aurelius suspects that slaves who have escaped could hide in the sewer. Possibly gladiators. Or the pirates and the two escapees from the house of Batiatus," said one voice, and as Duro and Pietros turned and rushed back down the aisle, they heard another soldier's response.  
"Yes, it seems to him to be a personal concern to get the two back. I don't want to get stuck in her skin when we bring them to him."

  
**I hope I have described Tiberius/Nasir's motivation to kill Spartacus somewhat plausibly.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we continue with the next chapter. Pietros makes a sad discovery in this chapter that opens old wounds. And you learn what's going on with the rebels.

**Sewerage of Capua**

Duro and Pietros walked along the aisle as quickly as possible and soon found themselves at the fork where they had spent the night. They tried not to make any noise, and the soldiers of the Roman patrol did not seem to have heard them.

But where should they go now? If they had taken the path on which they had reached the two paths the day before, they would be seen from afar if the Romans came to the place where they were now.

Duro's gaze fell on the other path, which was covered with cobwebs. There it was dark and a strange smell hit them as they approached. But as the steps approached, this seemed to be the better way.

He pulled Pietros, who was a little hesitant to take this path, behind him, but also did not feel comfortable with it. Nevertheless, he hoped that the Romans would not follow them and would not pay too much attention to the cobwebs that have now been torn.

Duro also hoped that the road would not turn out to be a dead end.

They rushed along the way as quickly as possible, and Duro suppressed a silent outcry at the last moment as he walked over something with his bare feet over something lace. Were they stones? 

On the silent groan of his companion, he noticed that Pietros, too, was struggling with the ground, which they could not recognize.

Then they noticed a light from the entrance of the aisle and they accelerated their steps. Apparently the light came from a torch. The soldiers were at the fork in the road.

"There's another way to go here, but it stinks!" said one of the soldiers. "Disgusting!"

Duro and Pietros suppressed renewed whining as they rushed down the aisle. At one point, the former gladiator nearly stumbled and held on to his companion. Luckily, the soldiers had not heard them.

The steps followed them and the bright light of the torch came closer.

"No one has been here for years. Look at all the dirt on the ground. All the bones. Here someone seems to have put down dead animals... we should examine the place in more detail. Now we have to take care of the living," a soldier's voice rang out. "The bones over there are certainly from a human…"

"We'll look at that in the next few days. Now we have to look for the criminals. The bones have certainly been here for a long time," said another soldier, and the light has been removed. 

Apparently, the soldiers had decided not to search this corridor any further.

Duro and Pietros breathed a serene breath. They had been lucky again.

Pietros groped Duro's arm in the dark.  
"Bones? We went over the bones all the time?" he asked softly, and he obviously didn't like the idea at all.

"I think that... "We should wait a while here," Duro replied softly, adding: "We should wait here. When they're gone, we'll try the exit again. I just hope we don't come across more soldiers out there."

They remained silent and listened to the sounds of the moving steps. Pietros looked to the left, while his eyes gradually became accustomed to the darkness. Wasn't there a faint light on the left? Probably more outflows?

"At least we see a little more there," Duro whispered, and they approached the light. In fact, they were now in a small room with a kind of basin in the middle. There, water flowed into an even deeper area of the sewersystem. 

It smelled of rubbish and urine, and they would have preferred to have left this place when Pietro's view fell on a wooden door on the other side of the round room. 

Perhaps there was another exit behind it?

However, due to the drains, he assumed that they were now back within the city walls and therefore this way, if it was a way out, was out of the question.

Nevertheless, Pietros circled the smelly water basin and tried to open the door. After he resisted a little, she finally gave in. But it was not an exit.

Instead, it was a locked room in which no one had apparently been for a long time.

Sparse light, which still glowed through the gutters from the adjoining room, fell into the darkness. In one corner lay an old ceiling, in which something larger was wrapped, and Pietros entered the room after some hesitation.

In one corner lay bones and he recognized a human skull.

Pietros actually wanted to leave this place, but something on the ceiling attracted him without him being able to say what it was. He approached and finally bent down next to the large, wrapped object.

Duro followed him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Was it there? That's so big, there could be... a dead. Someone wants to disappear here. Do you really want to see this?

Pietros hesitated, Duro was probably right. Nevertheless, he pulled the ceiling aside a little and hoped that Duro would be wrong. Actually, he didn't want to look at a dead man he didn't even know.

A skeletonized arm appeared and he shuddered. This was not the first death he saw in his life, of course, but he had only seen this state of decay a few times.

He would have preferred to put the blanket over the dead man again, but then his gaze fell on the man's forearm and he froze... he couldn't really believe it…

Pietros pulled the blanket even further to the side and saw that there were still long black hairs on the head of the corpse, even if the facial features were no longer recognizable. But there were the hair. Hair he had known so well and in which he had put his fingers so many times…

He had once braided the bracelet on the dead man's wrist himself and then gave it away…

"Barca...." He whispered quietly and reached for the hand, of which only bones were left.

"Are you safe?" Duro asked just as softly, putting a hand on Pietro's shoulder as he nodded. "I gave him the bracelet. And I would recognize his hair everywhere... This is... Barca…

He sat on the ground next to the dead and placed his other hand on the head of the so beloved man.   
At least he now knew what had happened to Barca's remains, even if he didn't like the fact that his lover was lying here, unburied, in the smelly sewer. 

He deserved better!

Duro, on the other hand, retreated to the other end of the room and sat down on the floor. He wanted to give Pietro time to say goodbye to his dead lover, while at the same time paying attention to the possible steps of returning Romans.

He heard voices from afar, and they gradually fell silent. Apparently the Romans were no longer looking in this part of the sewer. He thought they hadn't found Barca's body for a long time.

Apparently, very rarely did anyone come to this part of this place.

Pietros had always expected to burst into tears at such a moment. In fact, he had already shed a lot of tears around Barca. And now, as he held the dead man in his arms again, they began to flow and he tried not to sob too loudly, after all he did not want to draw the Attention of the Romans.

He noticed Duro putting his arms around him and gratefully accepted this attempt of consolation, even if no one could comfort him at the moment.

At the same time, he also felt anger. Anger at the killers. "Barca," he said softly. "Batiatus is dead. But Ashur is still alive... he will also pay for it at some point, I promise you... and you will always remain the only one for me... and you will get your revenge.…"

  
**Villa of a rich Roman**

  
Agron stood outside and watched the attempts of some gladiators, the freed domestic slaves, who were suited to teach some basic knowledge of combat. Most of them had never held a sword or other weapon before and didn't know much to do with it.

This was not the case for the black-haired young Syrian, who, for the first time, was quite skilful. Agron watched the movements of the not-too-great young man and was surprised by the speed.

At the same time, he tried not to stare too obviously at the other, after all, his last encounter with him last night had not been too friendly.

The boy had tried to kill Spartacus, but had been overwhelmed by it. When Agron and Crixus were added, they had both called for the death of the slave, but Spartacus had not agreed.

Instead, the rebel leader came to the conclusion that Tiberius, the young man's name, would become a fighter and he was willing to give him that chance.

  
Letitia stopped next to Agron and pressed a jug of water into his hand. "Here, you can give the boy over there when he's done training. And the others will also be thirsty!"

She smiled a little. "Isn't that the boy for whom there was such an uproar last night? Iras and I woke up."

Agron turned to the woman next to him. "Is there anything you don't get?"

She shrugged. "Very little. I think if Batiatus and Lucretia knew what I knew, they would have been horrified. Here I can handle my observations a bit more openly. But don't worry, few have noticed that this boy, Tiberius, wanted to kill Spartacus. And I also know that you and Crixus wanted to kill him on the spot."

The old cook sighed. "That this can be relived on my old days. You and Crixus agree. I thought I was dying before that happened.“

Agron smiled briefly and she was happy. He hadn't done that too often lately, not at all. The grief for his dead brother Duro had been too great. Actually, he hardly spoke to the former house slaves, only with her and Mira he made exceptions. In her case, this was mainly due to Letitia's tenacity and the fact that she did not respond to his dark glances that chased others away.

She had already had too many gladiators in her life.

She turned away to return to the villa, which, after the fighting, had also taken in the other former slaves in the late evening. They had all spent the night there and Letitia had already argued in the morning with the cook, who did not want to let her into his kitchen.

Then the brazen guy also claimed to be able to cook better than her!

She didn't want to sit around idle, so she had started distributing water among the training gladiators and domestic slaves. Some of the liberators from the villa were among them and the gladiators gave them instructions. The cook had also noticed the house slave Tiberius, who had tried to kill Spartacus the night before. 

He held a sword in his hand and took part in the training. This astonished her, but trusted that Spartacus knew what he was doing.

A little depressed, she thought of Pietros and tried to imagine him between the fighters. She missed him and would have liked to have him near her again.

Before returning to the house, she saw that Agron went to Tiberius and offered him some water. She smiled. The glances with which the former gladiator looked at the house slave had not gone unnoticed by her.

When she wanted to return to the villa, she met Crixus.  
"Letitia, did you see Spartacus? I need to talk to him urgently!" he asked, pointing towards the villa's garden. "He wanted to see what supplies could be taken from there. There are some fruit trees…"

Crixus went in the indicated direction and her smile disappeared. She thought of what the villa's dominus, who had in the meantime breathed his life through Crixus Sword, had said about Naevia.

Apparently the young woman had been passed on to another villa owner and she dared not imagine what she had suffered so far. Letitia wondered, not for the first time, what led many of these rich Roman men to injure an already completely destroyed young girl even more, and the thought of it disgusted her.

Certainly not all Romans behaved like this. She had also experienced guests in the House of Batiatus who behaved differently and were repulsed by some of the things they saw. But for the men who had hurt Naevia so much that perhaps cirxus couldn't even help her, she had nothing but hatred and contempt left.

  
**Sewerage of Capua**

In the late afternoon, Duro and Pietros sneaked through the corridor that was to lead them out of the sewer. There was nothing to see and hear from the Romans, and they hoped that the men had stopped their search or moved to another part of the sewer. 

Again they breathed in the fresh air from the exit, but this time no voices could be heard. Slowly they approached the daylight that seemed to them and finally they dared and carefully left the sewers.

They stepped outside and looked around. Fortunately, there were actually no Roman soldiers nearby. Instead, they rushed to reach a larger piece of forest that was some distance away. 

There they would find protection from possible eyes from which they did not want to be seen.

Pietros had left Barca reluctantly and with reluctance. He would have preferred to have taken the remains with him to bury him somewhere. But they had no way of transporting the dead, especially as they had to hurry to escape another capture by the Romans.

Pietros had long sat next to Barca's body. He had not been able to separate, even if he had not dared to remove the blanket completely. Pietros had finally asked Duro to give him his knife and cut off barca a strand of hair. He had taken the leather strap off Barca's wrist and undressed. He had stowed the strands of hair in one of the leather bags.

In silence, Pietros and Duro finally reached the small forest and each hung on to their own thoughts. Pietros remembered so many things he and the dead gladiator had experienced together. 

He also felt bad about the idea that his former lover was still in the sewer, even though he had spread the blanket more thoroughly over the dead and had addressed Barca's Carthaginian gods with a prayer.

He had vowed to retrieve the remains from the sewer and bury them at the next best opportunity. He even briefly thought about going back and doing it when they heard horses approaching.

They quickly hid behind a few bushes, as several Roman soldiers rushed past them.

Were the men looking for them? Were they looking for the pirates? Or the escaped gladiators? 

They decided to retreat deeper into the forest and leave the path that led through the forest, even if this path through the undergrowth, especially since they were not wearing shoes, was more arduous and they progressed more slowly. His wound also caused Duro pain.

Finally, the sun was already quite low, they decided to look for a place for the night and finally found it next to a small stream.

Pietros set out to fill up the water bottles while Duro spread the dirty coat on the floor. Then he sat down at the creek, washed his face and arms, and finally held his feet in the cool water. 

Pietros sat next to him after a while and stared silently into the water as Duro spoke. 'I'm sorry for Barca. I didn't know him, but I know he meant a lot to you and I'm sorry we couldn't bury him. But maybe one day we can do it…"

Pietros nodded in silence, and now he was in tears again. Actually, he didn't want to cry. He had done this so many times before…

"It's fine," he said as Duro reached out to him. "It has to go somehow…"

"Pietros, it's not bad that you mourn Barca," Duro replied softly, recalling that Pietros had comforted him not so long ago.

He put one arm around the other and stroked calmly over his back, while Pietros let his tears flow quietly.

Eventually Pietros wiped away his tears and got up. He would continue to mourn Barca, but now they had to consider what to do next. They had managed to leave Capua and the sewers behind. 

Now they both, but especially Duro, needed a few hours of sleep before continuing on their path, which they did not yet know exactly where he would take them.

  
**In this AU version, Barca's body was disposed of in the sewer and Pietros found it there. After all, in spite of everything, he was able to say goodbye again.**

**In the next chapter, Lucretia resents her unwanted visitors, who pose a danger to her. You can also learn how to continue with Duro and Pietros and the rebels. And Drusus must answer for his failure at Glaber.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. Duro and Pietros are on the run and beating each other. Lucretia is in danger. The same goes for the career of Commander Drusus. I hope you like the chapter and i'm happy about comments and kudos. I wish you a nice Sunday.

**Forest near Capua**

The ground under Duro was hard. He turned to the side and didn't know where he was at first. The air was fresh and even though it was cool, the morning sun shone into his face. He hadn't experienced this for months, and he grabbed his nose when a beetle sat down there.

"We made it! We left Capua!" he recalled, and even though he knew they weren't really safe, he enjoyed the feeling of new-found freedom. Instead of a prison cell, he saw trees and the sky above him as he opened his eyes.

The only other person close to him was a friend, and there were no hateful Romans where he feared they would wake him up with a kick. Nevertheless, he felt regret that Pietros would begin this first morning outside Capua with grief.

Duro was frightened out of sleep a few times a night. On the one hand it was cold, even if the days and thus also the nights gradually became warmer. But Pietros had also awakened him, as he was apparently haunted by bad dreams.

Duro had then calmed down the other and, to his relief, Pietros had found a little rest.

By morning, both had fallen into a deep sleep. Even now Pietros slept deep and firm and hopefully without bad dreams.

Probably the thoughts and memories of Barca had disturbed his sleep. Duro had then thought of his brother Agron and wondered if he was doing it. Did he do well? Was he still alive? After all, his brother was now also in constant danger and, along with the others, was persecuted far more by the Romans than Pietros and he.

Still, he and Pietros would be safer with the others. On their own, they would probably find it very difficult to get their way in the long run. He also missed his brother and he was sure that Pietros was longing for his girlfriends from the kitchen. In his opinion, Pietros had nothing to fear, even if he had killed Gnaeus. For one thing, he didn't need to know. He would at least remain silent if Pietros asked him to do so. 

On the other hand, he would not allow it if anyone actually thought of holding Pietros accountable for Gnaeus' death. He was sure he would find support from Agron, Spartacus and others. That being said, Gnaeus hadn't had many friends in the Ludus at the end, and Duro was sure that if he had escaped with the others, one of them would probably have killed him in the dispute.

In the last few days, Gnaeus had constantly provoked controversy in the Ludus and some of the other gladiators had already almost lost control several times, especially since the situation had been very tense anyway.

His decision to find the others was at least clear and he hoped Pietros would accompany him. Because where else should they go? Should he make his way alone to Germania or Pietros alone to Egypt, where he did not know anyone? None of them would do that. 

They couldn't work anywhere, as they could be recognized everywhere by the burnt-in B in their arm and their collars as escaped slaves. If the soldiers did not find them, they might fall into the hands of any slave traders.

Quite apart from the fact that there were people there that they longed for, they were safer in a large group, many of which were able to fight.  
Duro grabbed Pietro's shoulder and shook it slightly.

"Pietros, we have to leave."

But Pietros did not react and Duro leaned against the tree under which they had been sleeping. Actually, he was still tired and his wound caused him more difficulties.  
Probably the efforts since escaping from prison had been a little too much. He was annoyed by this circumstance, after all he was a gladiator. He had been training with the others weeks ago and had even made some progress. Duro feared that this miserable wound had ruined his entire training, and he cursed the soldier who had inflicted it on him.

"I'll stop us," he thought, frustrated, closing his eyes, but was smart enough to take a little rest and Pietros could still use a little extra sleep.

**House of Batiatus**

Lucretia nodded to Liria, who handed her a mug with her much-loved apple juice. The slave looked to the ground intimidated and Lucretia was annoyed because she knew the reason.The girl was not afraid of her, because she had treated her well and had, at least in her opinion, been a just mistress towards her.  
The reason for the girl's insecurity was another.Ever since Gaius and Ilithyia settled in their house, their own slaves seemed increasingly frightened and always anxious not to stand out. Only Matay and Ashur made a welcome exception.

  
Her new cook, Lenya, barely ventured out of her kitchen, and the same was true of Liria, who also tried to avoid Ilithyia in particular. Damaris had even dropped the brush the day before, shaking her domina, when she heard the voice of Glaber's wife when she called for one of the slaves she had brought with her.

  
Even the old Cornelius had retreated to the room where Quintus had kept his documents and pretended to have to deal with old bills. He also avoided any contact with the uninvited guests if possible.

Lucretia was glad that Ilithyia, who suffered from far more discomfort than herself due to her pregnancy, was mostly in the guest room and had her own slaves serve her.  
Above all, the two younger slaves, Damaris and Liria, seemed to fear Glaber's soldiers. Some of the men had already proved to be intrusive several times and Matay had only dragged one of them away from Damaris the day before when the man tried to push them into a corner.

  
Gradually Lucretia no longer felt safe in her own house.

Lucretia was about to drink from her mug when Liria grabbed her stomach and then appeared to bend in pain.

  
"Liria, what about you?" asked Lucretia, shouting for her bodyguard. "Matay!"

  
Her bodyguard, who was always near her, even though she did not see him, entered the room and caught the young slave just in time when she collapsed.  
"The juice... I... I was drinking from it....I...," she stammered, screaming in agony.

  
Matay nodded to Lucretia. 'That's what she does sometimes. I caught her once. She loves these juices. I didn't reveal it because I didn't think it was that bad."  
Lucretia disagreed, but in this case the young woman's audacity had apparently proved useful to her. Inadvertently, the slave had served her as a taster, because Matay now confirmed her presumption.

"Your breath smells. It looks like poison," he said, lifting up the young woman. "I will put you to bed and send you to the Medicus..."  
The slave's head fell to the side and Matay laid her on the ground.

He grabbed her neck and shook her head with regret. "She's dead."  
"And the poison was actually destined for me," Lucretia muttered, frightened, while Matay reached for the mug with the juice and smelled of it. "It smells almost like Liria's breath. The poor..."

  
Lucretia reached for a dresser and held on to it. Who was so vile and tried to poison a pregnant woman? Basically, she could think of only one person to do this and other malice. And hadn't the same person already sent assassins to her?

  
"Ilithyia," she cursed angrily. "This false snake!"

**Headquarters of the City Guard of Capua**

Dursus went up and down in his quarters. Shortly, he had a conversation with the new Pretor Glaber, and he could now feel how the prisoners felt when they were about to be interrogated by Aurelius.

  
Because nothing else would be this conversation.

An interrogation.

Glaber had already made it clear that he was very dissatisfied with the work of the city commander. After all, he had not yet been able to recapture the escaped gladiators. Instead, they had ambushed Drusus and his soldiers in an execution, captured pirates and two slaves from the house of Batiatus had escaped. 

  
One of the prisoners, for all his evil, was also the only gladiator who had fallen into his hands, and this had been more of a stroke of luck.

  
Drusus looked out the window. Glaber, accompanied by several soldiers, climbed off his horse in the courtyard of the headquarters and was greeted by Aurelius, who tried to answer all the questions to the praetor, and apparently also tried to make himself popular.

Drusus had expected this behavior, and once again he cursed the fact that he had been so stupid as to appoint Aurelius as captain.

An hour later, Drusus packed his few belongings into some leather bags and he hurried. He did not want to stay in the headquarters longer than necessary, because the praetor had removed him from his post and ordered him to leave the city as soon as possible. Glaber soon wanted to appoint someone else as city commander, and Drusus didn't want to know exactly who would be his successor.

  
Angry, Drusus suddenly reached for a mug standing on the table and hurled it against the wall.

  
Hadn't he done everything he could to make this city a safe place? He had persecuted criminals, and his soldiers had bravely confronted the escaped gladiators at every encounter.

A few times there had even been a trace of the disappeared. So they had apparently been in the sewer for a while. Of course, after receiving the notice, Drusus had sewers searched. Then a villa had been raided. Drusus had also sent soldiers there, but Spartacus and his slaves had already disappeared.  
"He was one step ahead of me every time," Drusus muttered, picking up the mug lying on the floor. Then he poured wine from a jug and took a deep sip.

"Glaber will still be surprised. Spartacus will not be captured or killed so easily. And I almost give Spartacus the fact that he succeeds and that Glaber will make life difficult."  
He poured another cup of wine. There was no longer any reason to avoid alcohol, because the safety of the city was no longer his responsibility.

  
He would return to Rome the same day and retreat to the house he once lived in with Marcella. His stepbrothers, the two senators who bore the same name as him, would not be pleased with his return, after all, his career was ruined. 

  
Before that, he would visit Aulus. This severely overweight man had been an old friend of his father, and Drusus had only recently done him a favor by bringing back an escaped slave-girl.

  
Aulus lived more than half a day's trip away from Capua in a large villa and he owned a large piece of land. The man had already invited him several times and Drusus thought to use this hospitality now to plan his next steps.

**Close to a small Roman village**

Duro was alone when he woke up in the morning. They had progressed very slowly in the last two days and gradually their supplies ran out. By the late afternoon of the previous day, they had found refuge in an old dilapidated stone house surrounded by young trees.

  
At least they had a roof over their heads on the night it started to rain.

Duro got up and left the house. There was nothing to see of Pietros and he wondered where the other had gone. Did he want to collect some berries in the forest? But then he heard footsteps and Pietros emerged sweaty between the trees. Apparently he had run and Duro was already afraid that he had come across a Roman patrol.

But then he noticed the bulging bag that the other was carrying. He was also dressed in a brown, simple hooded cape and handed Duro a similar "Here, I have....well..."  
"You stole it somewhere?" asked Duro, worried. "Where then? And has anyone seen you?"

  
Pietros looked to the ground embarrassed. "Yes, I stole it. And I'm glad Letitia doesn't know that. She would certainly reproach me and tell me that something like this does not belong. But we need new supplies and something warm to attract. When we put on the coats, they also cover the lower part of our neck and you don't see our collars. And we can also cover our arms when we wrap them in the coat..."

  
Duro took the bag and looked inside. The smell of fried meat rose into his nose and he reached into the bag. "You got meat. And fresh bread," Duro rejoiced as he wrapped himself in the new cloak. "But where did you steal it?"

Pietros shrugged at the word "stolen."

"There is a village nearby. I sneaked right into the garden of the first house. It belonged to a Roman family. Apparently that was her breakfast. And the coats lay on a stool. No one saw me. But I've heard a conversation Apparently Spartacus and the others have raided a few villas lately. People are scared of it. But they still seem to be in the area."

Duro bit into a piece of the stolen roast and was happy with the good news, but he was worried about Pietros. After all, he had risked a lot when he was stolen.

Shouldn't he have done that?

**In the next chapter you will meet Spartacus and his rebels. And Agron, in particular, learns news that he didn't expect.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a new chapter. I hope you like it. Lucretia no longer feels safe and no longer wants to stay in her house, and the rebels liberate a villa and receive a message that will plunge some, albeit only in the next chapter, into emotional chaos.

**House of Batiatus**

  
Lucretia stood on her balcony. Where the gladiators once trained, she now watched Matay and Ashur. To their surprise, the two fought each other. At first, she was terrified. Were the two in contention? 

Did Matay find out what had happened between Ashur and Naevia in the end? She had since learned, after one of Glaber's soldiers had come too close to Damaris, that Matay was relentless in this regard. 

He would not allow violence against a woman. 

Cornelius had told her that Matay, as a thirteen-year-old, had once watched slave traders fall over his mother while he was carrying his little five-year-old brother on his arm, and had just managed to prevent him from noticing what was happening to their mother.

But she quickly found out it was just a practice fight. The two Syrians interrupted their struggle from time to time and showed each other different ways to strike with the sword or fend off an attack. Apparently Matay did not know that his friend Ashur also had this dark side.

She heard footsteps behind her and involuntarily stiffened herself. A person she preferred to avoid joined her.

"You got fat, Lucretia," Ilithyia said as she stepped by her side and also took a look at the fighters. 'And I have to say that you haven't been surrounded by ugly men since Quintu's death. Your bodyguard... I like him."

"Don't pronounce my husband's name," Lucretia thought angrily, preferring to push the other woman over the balcony railing. Instead, she turned to her.

"Ilithyia, I can only return the compliment. You too will soon need some bigger clothes. But I am glad for your husband Gaius that he finally gets his heir ....he do, right?""

"Just like Quintus would have gotten one," Ilithyia hissed at the other woman, and Lucretia smiled contentedly. Ilithyia had confirmed what she had already suspected and had calculated. The father of Ilithyia's child was therefore not Glaber, but, according to her calculations, Spartacus.

"Well, in my case there is no husband to blame me for it," Lucretia replied, leaving the balcony as she could no longer bear Ilithyia's sight.

She called to Damaris. "We leave. As you may know, Quintu's father owned a house in Rome, where he retreated from time to time. I think it's time to visit the beautiful city again. You, Lenya, Cornelius, Matay and Ashur will accompany me."

She was reluctant to leave her house. She did not like the house in Rome very much, because her husband's father had set it up and everything there was still reminiscent of Titus. This was one of the reasons why she had not temporarily moved in after the gladiators' raid and Quintu's death. But since Glaber and Ilithyia moved in, and especially since Liria's death by poison, she no longer felt safe in her own house and was now afraid to eat something.

  
She heard a woman's scream and, followed by Damaris, left her room to check.

She almost ran into two of Glaber's soldiers and the praetor himself, who had packed Lucretia's cook, Lenya.

Blood ran out of the woman's nose and she looked at her mistress in despair. "Domina, I did nothing," she said with a pleading undertone in her voice. 'I'm innocent. She came into the kitchen and…"

Glaber cut off the woman's word. "Silence. I'm sure she's behind the poison attack on you, Lucretia. She has prepared the juice and she is probably a follower of Spartacus, who, like him, wanted to rise up against her mistress."

"That's not true, your wife came into the kitchen and...", Lenya cried desperately, but Glaber grabbed her by the upper arm and led her out of the house, followed by his soldiers. 

Lucretia and Damaris followed them as he walked with Lenya to the edge of the cliff and lucretia shuddered, while Matay rushed to her side and looked at her inquiringly. "Should I intervene? What does he have in front of him? He won't.…"

But Lucretia held him back. "If you attack him now, he will kill you too....I'm afraid we can't help Lenya and I have to make good faces into bad play for now…"

This happened what Lucretia and apparently Matay and Ashur, who also observed the process, had feared. Lenya cried out again and began to fight back, but Glaber dragged her to the cliff and pushed her down before returning to Lucretia.  
"She wanted to poison you, killed a young slave and then plunged down the cliff for fear of punishment and discovery. All my men will testify to this. Really regrettable and of course this should not happen again…

He took a look at Matay, who in turn stared at him hostilely.

Glaber returned to the house. "I will go to the headquarters afterwards. I have to take care of the capture of the escaped gladiators. The former city commander was not in a position to do so. He should be glad that I will not let him be punished in addition to the dismissal of his post. I cannot tolerate such a failure... but his brothers are influential senators…"

Glaber was silent and Lucretia thought that Glaber did not seem to want to joke too much with the brothers of the former city commander.

She followed him into the house and saw that he grabbed his wife by the arm, and Lucretia rushed to hear what they were talking about when he dragged her with him. "That was the last time I took you into protection....be more adept next time! Or omission your foolish attempts, which above all harm me."

"But Gaius....I wanted..." complained Ilithyia, but her husband pulled her behind her into the guest area and closed the door behind her.

She turned to Matay. "Get a carriage. We leave this house as soon as Glaber has left for the headquarters. We are....not safe here.…"

Ashur turned to his dominay. "Let me stay here. I will keep an eye on the Praetor and his wife and report to you. I will send a messenger regularly. I... know people who will be happy to do this for a small amount of money."

Matay and Lucretia looked at Ashur inquiringly, and the bodyguard seemed to regret that the other Syrian did not want to accompany her. But Lucretia knew the real reason. Ashur's hatred of the gladiators and his desire to take revenge on them for alleged and actual injustice was greater than his fear of Glaber. And if he stayed on the spot, he had more opportunities…

And it was certainly not bad for them to continue, even from Rome, to keep an eye on what was going on in their house. "Good, Ashur. But I warn you, don't get behind me..."

"Of course not, domina," Ashur replied.

** Close to a small Roman village **

Pietros had filled the water bottles at a nearby creek and picked a few strawberries when he returned to the dilapidated house he and Duro had lived in for two days.

The former gladiator held his knife in his hand and performed a spin. Then his hand came out with the knife and he pushed it into a tree, but then let it go and grabbed the right side of his belly. 

Pietros rushed to his side. "What are you doing? You shouldn't train. Your wound…"

"At some point I have to start again," Duro disagreed, wanting to resume training, but Pietros reached for his arm. "We should have a bite to eat first. And if you overdo it with the training and you are worse off again, no one will be helped with it."

Duro pulled his knife out of the tree and turned to Pietros. "I know. But I have to be able to fight when we come across Roman soldiers. Unfortunately, I don't have a sword. And it's not that painful anymore. It has... improved." 

He quickly turned away, for his last words did not correspond to the truth. But if he admitted that he felt much worse than Pietros already told him, he would probably take the knife out of his hand. 

Moreover, he did not want to unsettle the other, who had bought the food in the last few days or rather stole it in the village. Pietros had become his true friend by now, and Duro knew he was worried.  
"You risked so much. And I sat here and rested. I will also make my contribution from now on," Duro said, but Pietros shook his head. "You're not doing well. I look at you. At night you still have a fever sometimes and it is not surprising that it is. First we were in prison and then on the run. You never had the opportunity to truly rest and heal."

Duro had to admit that Pietro was right. Conversely, he would probably have cared for the other. Nevertheless, he no longer wanted to feel useless, because as he was now, he would be nothing but an additional burden for Agron and the others.

**Villa from Aulus**

  
Agron, Spartacus, Crixus and Rhaskos saw the rider leaving the villa on the back of his horse.  
He wore simple clothes, but had a very good horse and was armed with a sword.

"I've seen this man before, not too long ago, but I'm not sure he really is..." the Thracian said thoughtfully.

They went into cover as the rider rode close to their hiding place and then rushed away to inform the others. At nightfall they would attack this villa, because they hoped to find some money and supplies there. In addition, there were several strong slaves who had just gone to the villa.

Eight of them had carried a very thick man in a juice through the entrance gate around noon, while he drove the men to a hurry.

"If we succeed tonight, they will no longer carry the man through the area, but will instead use their strength to hold a sword or bow," Spartacus said, addressing his companions.

Agron looked thoughtfully at his leader. "And it's not too dangerous for Nasir?"

"I've yet to get used to the name," Rhaskos said. "Good that Chadara always had the same name."

Spartacus smiled briefly at the two of them. Tiberius had recently revealed his real name, Nasir, to the other, and a friendship, perhaps even a little more, seemed to develop between him and Agron for some time.   
Spartacus rejoiced that some joy had returned to Agron's life since then. Rhaskos and Chadara also often sat together, and it was much more obvious that their relationship went beyond friendship, with only the two knowing how deep those feelings really were.

He responded to Agron's concern about Nasir's role in the planned raid. Nasir, as a seemingly frightened house slave, was supposed to knock on the door and get the guards there to open. He was asked for help for his injured Dominus, who was waiting for him nearby. 

Spartacus himself would assume this role. "Don't worry. You will also be in hiding nearby. Nasir will make it."

"Please be careful," Agron asked the young Syrian shortly after dark. "Keep distance from the gate..."

Nasir nodded and looked tensely at the gate. He didn't seem comfortable in his role, but he had agreed to do so. Agron suspected that he was still trying to prove his loyalty to Spartacus and the rebels.

Nasir wrapped his cloak tighter around him, also to cover his sword hidden under it, and stood in front of the gate shortly thereafter, knocking.

"Please, help me. We were attacked. My Dominus is with me. He's injured. He desperately needs help!" cried Nasir, and after hitting the goal twice more, it was finally opened.

Two gatekeepers stepped out and looked at him inquiringly, while Nasir desperately reached for the arm of one of the men. "Please help me. My good Dominus is injured! He's over there!"

He pointed to a point some distance away. In fact, a man lay on the ground and appeared to be injured. "I brought him here. He can't walk anymore!"

One of the guards grabbed Nasir by the arm, and together the three headed in the direction of the seemingly injured man, while Agron stared furiously at the Roman from his hiding place, dragging the former house scalve so unruly behind him. 

There was no reason at all to proceed in this way, because Nasir was apparently a frightened young man who was worried about his dominus.

As the guards arrived at the injured man, some of the former gladiators, led by Crixus, crowded through the entrance gate and got into a brief fight in the yard with a few guards. 

Apparently, the dominus of this villa had not placed any value on too much guarding.  
The guard, who had grabbed Nasir by the arm, knocked the former house slave to the ground when he noticed what was going on behind his back.

"Criminals! It was a cunning," he said, drawing his sword. He hit Nasir, who quickly rolled to the side.

Spartacus, lying on the ground and dressed in a good coat that had once belonged to Batiatus, had taken on the role of the injured Dominus, jumped up and thrust his sword into the side of the guard. The man collapsed while the other guard attacked him, but the gladiator quickly overpowered him.

In the meantime, Agron, Rhaskos and two other gladiators, Rabanus and Donar, had joined them. Agron held Nasir's hand and helped him get up, and together the five gladiators and the former slave rushed to the villa's yard.

Meanwhile, Crixus and the others had overwhelmed the few guards. Some of the Romans lay dead in the courtyard and the men, who Spartacus recognized as the bearers of the thick Dominus, left the villa.

To his relief, they showed no signs of attacking the intruders, some of whom even looked relieved.

"Where can we find the dominus of this villa?" asked Spartacus, and one of the slaves pointed to a door.   
"There are his rooms at the back. He's eating dinner. Not his first dinner tonight... and three girls are with him. His favorite slaves. Gallia, Germania and Nubia."

Crixus gave a contemptuous snout of himself and the slave shrugged. "He named the girls after their countries of origin and he prefers slaves with beautiful long hair. They all have that three... he likes to caress about it. He can't do more, he's too fat for that!"

Spartacus entered the rooms of Dominus, followed by Agron, Crixus and Donar. The man sat on his bed, a plate of chicken legs next to him. He just gnawed one while caressing the black hair of a dark-skinned young woman with the other hand. Two other girls, also with long hair and light skin, sat on the other side of the bed and one of them smeared an ointment on an open wound at the man's foot.

The women were still quite young, probably none of them were older than eighteen years.  
The chicken leg almost fell out of his hand when he saw the armed gladiators. But apparently he thought the raid was a bad joke at first.

"What does that mean? I... eat straight..." he lamented, as the seriousness of his situation came to his attention.

Spartacus, meanwhile, gave the three girls a wink and they left the room in a hurry and with a grateful look. The distrust that Nasir had shown them at the beginning did not seem to divide the slaves in this villa.

"I... I did nothing...," complained the Dominus, and in fact this villa was not one to which Naevia had been taken. Therefore, Spartacus and the others did not want to spend too much time there.  
Nevertheless, Crixus inquired about his missing lover. "Was Naevia here? A slave from the house of Batiatus?"

The Dominus looked at the Gaul without understanding.   
"Naevia? The name doesn't tell me anything. I've never heard of it. And I never had anything to do with this Batiatus. Wasn't that a Lanista from Capua? And who are you? But hopefully not these bandits that the former city commander warned me about."

"So it was the city commander who left your villa earlier?" Crixus asked the man, who nodded in fear. "Yes. He said you raided villas and stole slaves. I would like my three girls and my plate back…"

The latter had taken Crixus out of the man's hand and he shook his head. "No. We have a few freed slaves among us who need food more than you. And the three girls don't belong to you anymore!"

An hour later, Agron joined Nasir. Both sat by a pond in the garden of the Dominus and were happy to find a little peace, even though at some distance a couple had retreated into the bushes.

Nasir's girlfriend Chadara had disappeared with Rhaskos in one of the villa's bedrooms. The gladiator had reserved the room for himself and the young woman immediately after they had taken the villa. 

Nasir wondered if Chadara really had feelings for Rhaskos or if she was just glad to have found someone to take care of her.

"You proved again today that you can be relied upon," Agron said now, and Nasir, who had taken off his shoes, put his feet in the pond. He had gone a long way today and his feet hurt him. 

He was not used to such long hikes, but already suspected that he would do so sooner or later.   
"I wanted to help," the Syrian said softly, giving Agron a brief smile, which was reciprocated.

He wondered what really connected them. Was it friendship? Or maybe something that went beyond friendship? They both preferred the company of men, which Nasir had found out about Agron, but he did not yet know where their friendship would develop.

  
Letitia had taken care of the three freed slave girls, Germania, Nubia and Gallia. She had confiscated the kitchen of the villa and was pleased with how well furnished it was.

Now she presented the girls with a hot herbal drink, which she knew had a slightly soothing effect.

Especially little Gallia seemed to be very restless. She had looked at the gladiators with a mixture of curiosity and fear, and something seemed to weigh on her soul.

"What is your real name? Your names have certainly given you your dominus, right?" she asked, gently caressed over Gallias neck. There was one of those horrible collars that could not be removed. So drawn as an escaped slave, she was really best cared for by them. .

"My name is Ania," Gallia answered Letitia's question, pointing to the other girls. "This is Miria. She is from Nubia. Hence their slave name. And Germania is actually called Alsuna."

"Pretty names. If you wish, we will call you by these names again in the future," suggested Letitia, and the three girls nodded. 

They seemed happy to get their real names back and Letitia could understand this very well.

"Letitia," Ania said a little timidly. "This B on the arm of the gladiators... I've seen that before. In prison. I ran away and was caught. And then I was in jail. There I also got my collar. I met two other prisoners there…"

Letitia looked at the girl in surprise. "Prisoners with the sign of Batiatus? Who could it be?"  
Ania nodded and sipped on her herbal soak "Yes. They were called Duro and Pietros. They were kind to me."

Letitia almost dropped a pot she was about to hang over the fire and looked at the girl in disbelief. "Duro and Pietros? Are you sure?"

Ania nodded a little unsettled and seemed to wonder if she had said something wrong. Then she began to describe the two prisoners and Letitia carefully placed the pot on a table before sitting on a stool. 

„That must not be true. My poor boy is in prison. Why did Damaris lie? And Duro....everyone thought he was dead…"

Ania disagreed. 'They're no longer in jail. That's what the city commander told my Dominus. They have escaped, along with a few pirates. Therefore, and because he could not capture Spartacus until now, he was relieved of his post. Alsuna, Miria and I sat next to our dominus and he stroked our hair while Commander Drusus talked about it..."  
The other two girls nodded in agreement and Letitia rose. She reached for Ania's hand. 

"We should both tell Spartacus what you just told me," the cook said, and the girl looked at her a little frightened when she heard the name Spartacus.

Letitia smiled at her. "Thanks to him, you no longer have to serve your dominus and get your name back. You don't have to be afraid of him. But he should know that one of his gladiator brothers and my poor boy are on the run..."


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has become a little shorter. I thought I was giving the news that Pietros, of whom the rebels knew it, and especially Duro, whom was thought dead, are still alive and on the run are give a separate chapter.

**Villa of Aulus**

Aulus, the villa's dominus, was allowed to stay in his bedroom, but Spartacus had two gladiators in front of the door as guards. He wasn't sure how they would deal with the man.  
Much would depend on what the slaves of the villa reported about him. Had he been brutal with them? Had he forced her into his bed? Or was it just a harmless man who liked to eat and did no real harm to anyone?

The decision would be made the next day. Now the rebel leader wanted to go to sleep together with Mira. They had also moved into one of the bedrooms where, according to one of the freed slaves, Commander Drusus had stayed the night before.

Mira got a little closer to him as he stretched out on the bed and he put an arm around her shoulder. He liked her, even though he would never have the feelings for her that he had for his dead wife Sura.

He was sorry for Mira and he hoped for her that she could come to terms with this circumstance. Nevertheless, he appreciated her and she had grown close to his heart.  
He was about to extinguish the candle next to his bed when it knocked on the door.

"Spartacus? It's important," said one woman's voice, recognizing Letitia, the cook.

She had never visited him in the middle of the night, so it really had to be about something more important than the supplies from the kitchen or a harmless argument. He got up and quickly put on his coat. Mira followed his example, then Spartacus opened the door and Letitia, one of the three girls freed in the dominus's bedroom, walked past the room.

"Has something happened? With the girl?" Mira asked anxiously, and Spartacus also wondered if one of the men had come too close to the young woman.  
Letitia shook her head. "No, nothing has happened. The three girls are doing well. But Ania has something important to tell. It's about Pietros and Duro..."

"Duro?" asked Spartacus, surprised and incredulous at the same time. 'But he's dead. And what does Pietros have to do with it?"

"That will tell you Ania," Said Letitia, smiling cheerfully at the girl. "Don't worry, tell me what you told me. It's important."

Spartacus pulled up a stool and asked Ania to sit down. He hoped that she would relax a little and report what upset Letitia so much, because the old woman's cheeks were red and she seemed to be very worried.

  
He knew that she had liked Pietros and that she was missing the young man she had taken under her wing in the kitchen. After all they knew, Pietros, just as Damaris and Ashur blew with Lucretia, and they still served her.

And as for Duro, they had to come to terms with the fact that he had not survived the escape from The Ludus.   
Spartacus fondly remembered him, after all, he and his brother Agron were the first to join him. He still appreciated this, and he remembered how much Agron had suffered from his brother's death.

Agron had been inconsolable and he hadn't really let anyone get close to him. He also seemed to want to avenge the death of his brother on every Roman who ran over him. But even this did not bring him peace. He still found no consolation.

  
It was only recently, since she had joined Nasir, that this had changed a little. Since then, Agron's thoughts have not only revolved around the death of his brother and his desire for revenge on the Romans...

  
Then Ania began to report.

In disbelief, Spartacus looked at Ania after she had finished her report and he asked her to describe Pietro and Duro's appearance, while Letitia excitedly placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.

As for Pietros, her words might be true. But Duro was dead...

"You did it well, kid," Letitia said, turning to Spartacus. "Pietros is on the run. I don't think he went along with the pirates. That wouldn't suit him. And if Duro is only half as attached to Agron as the other way around, he will look for him. The two are alone, Duro's wound may not have completely healed yet and, according to all this Drusus told the Dominus of Ania, they narrowly escaped a crucifixion. I don't want to know what they suffered in prison after Ania left. We have to find them..."

Mira led Letitia to another stool so that the old woman could sit down before turning to Spartacus.  
"Letitia is right. We search for Naevia all the time without knowing if she is still alive, even if we hope so. But with Pietros and also Duro, even if I never expected this news, it is much more likely that we can help them. And maybe they need our help. The Romans are looking for them...."

Spartacus opened the bedroom door and called for Donar, who passed by holding a cup of wine in his hand.

  
"Donar, please call Agron. Tell him I need to talk to him urgently," Spartacus asked, and Donar nodded before heading out to search for Agron.

"He won't believe it," Mira feared, looking anxiously at Letitia and Ania. "Maybe you should both lie down a little bit and try to find some sleep. The day was exciting enough, especially for the girl. And it's better for Spartacus Agron to report what you just told us."

Agron would probably be better received by the unexpected messages if he heard them from his friend Spartacus instead of a girl unknown to him.

Letitia left, holding Ania by the hand, the room and almost they bumped into Agron at the door. The cook pressed his arm with compassion for a moment and he looked at her in amazement as she pulled the girl behind her and closed the door.

"You sent after me? Donar said it was urgent," said Agron, who looked a little tired. Apparently he had already slept.

"It's indeed urgent," Spartacus replied. "One of the slaves reported that city commander Drusus was a guest at this villa recently. He spoke of a prison breakout. Two of the prisoners are Pietros, a boy who once worked in the Ludus and your brother Duro."

Agron felt like the ground was being ripped off under his feet. That was not possible. His brother was dead. Nobody knew that better than him. Duro had died in his arms. He would never forget this terrible moment in his life.

"Who allows such a bad joke?" he asked, feeling anger rising within himself.

  
"It's not a joke," Spartacus said. "Of course I will continue to check this further and also talk to Aulus. His three slaves sat next to him as he spoke to Drusus, and one of them confided in Letitia. She had shared a cell with her brother and Pietros for a short time after a failed escape attempt. She was able to describe them well and spoke to them."  
"She has no reason to lie," Mira interjected into the conversation, briefly putting a hand on Agron's shoulder. "I also know that it's hard to believe."  
"Then I'm going to talk to this girl. I want to know what she has to say and I'll find out if she's telling the truth," Agron said, but Spartacus approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Leave the little one happy, Agron. You are upset and the news has shaken you. You would be very scared of them. She probably hasn't had an easy life yet, and she shouldn't be asked by you for possibly reckless words because she did the right thing when she confided in Letitia."

For a moment, Agron pondered whether he was actually intimidating to half the children, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. It was about his brother. The brother he had lost and mourned for weeks...

"Then I'm going to go to this Aulus. Let him confirm to me all that you have just told me, and woe, he is lying. Then he will feel my anger," Agron said, walking to the door. "And if he speaks the truth..."

Agron broke down. His voice failed and his thoughts began to circulate. Was this a dream or a nightmare? Would he awaken at any moment?

Spartacus turned to Mira. "Go to bed quietly. I will accompany Agron to Aulus. It's better if I stick with it while he's questioning him..."

"Actually, it's good news and it should be a cause for joy," Mira replied. "If Duro really still lives and Pietros would return to Letitia, it would be almost a miracle. And I would give it to Letitia. She misses Pietros and worries about him. Me too. He always seemed so vulnerable..."

"I know I wanted to help him in the Ludus when Gnaeus threatened him," Spartacus replied. 'I've always regretted that he stayed with his dominamo, but apparently that wasn't true. I'm sorry he was in jail. If we had known about it, I would have thought a little bit to free him and Duro... even if it had become difficult."

"It would probably have been almost impossible," Mira said, but Spartacus disagreed. 'I wouldn't have left her there."

An hour later, Agron entered the small bedroom he had moved into in the villa and sat on the pile of skins he used as a sleeping place.

His gaze fell on Nasir, who slept peacefully on the other side of the room. He had cuddled deep into the blankets and only half of his face was visible as his hair fell over the other half of his face.

Agron briefly thought about awakening the other and telling him about what he had just experienced through Spartacus and then again through Aulus, but then decided against it. The young man needed his sleep, because the last day had been exhausting and he knew that Nasir would rush back to training the next day.

Moreover, he did not yet know what words he should find for the unbelievable that Aulus had confirmed to him once again, albeit with a trembling voice. Spartacus had to hold him back a few times when he questioned the man.

His brother lived.

Agron did not believe that Duro had joined the Pirates. He knew his brother too well. This was not the society he was looking for. Moreover, Agron recalled with a sad smile, Duro hated ships.

The journey on the slave ship had trouble everyone, but Duro had suffered far more from seasickness than he did. He would probably not enter a ship in his entire life.  
Either he was alone or on the run with this Pietros, whom he had only seen a few times from afar and whose name he only occasionally knew from the stories of the other gladiators.

Probably his wound still caused him problems and at one time Agron cursed himself.

Why hadn't he re-convinced himself if his brother was dead? But it had been so obvious. Still, he wondered how he had been so deceived. 

"I would never have left him there if I had guessed it," Agron thought, slapping his hand on the skins on which he was sitting. Nasir moved in his sleep and turned to the other side, but then opened his eyes.

"Agron? Is everything okay?" he asked, drunk.

"Yes, keep sleeping. Everything is good," Agron replied softly, resting on his skins, even though he was sure he couldn't find sleep.

He would have preferred to leave immediately to look for his brother. But Spartacus had told him this with some difficulty. They would leave in the early morning.

It was especially important to find Duro and Pietros before the Romans found them.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Somehow a victim of the general mail loss.Then I had to revise something. I wish you a lot of fun reading. Pietros and Duro get an important hint.

**Villa of Aulus**

Agron couldn't find sleep that night, but he lay down on his makeshift bed and heard Nasir's breaths in the dark. The thought of the Syrian made him smile, despite his concern for his brother, and he still couldn't really believe that he could care for him again. The young man's company had been a great consolation to him lately, but it was more than what connected them.  
Many thoughts went through his head while at the same time trying not to let hope become too great.

The morning was already graying when Agron stood up quietly so as not to wake his roommate, but Nasir didn't seem to have the firmest sleep that night.  
"Where are you going?" he asked, a little surprised. "Did Spartacus call you to you so early?"

Agron shook his head and decided to tell the truth to Nasir, who had become something of a friend.  
"I talked to you about my brother Duro at the time. You may remember...  
"Of course I remember," said Nasir, who had sat down.  
Agron sat next to him and Nasir's hand briefly touched his forearm. "I know that you find it difficult to talk about him."

"He lives," Agron said softly, and Nasir looked at him questioningly and in disbelief.   
"How is this possible?"  
"Spartacus told me last night“ Agron said. „I do not yet know exactly what happened. But apparently the Romans found him and a boy from the kitchen, Pietros, when they searched the house after our escape. By now, they were both able to escape. That's what the city commander told this Aulus, the fat guy who moans all the time after food. Drusus himself has since lost his Position as city commander. And Glaber is now hunting us and Duro and Pietros with his soldiers."  
"Then we should look for them. Maybe they're looking for us," Nasir replied thoughtfully. "But how are we supposed to find them? Or them us?"  
"I'm going to leave this morning. That's why I got up so early. I didn't want to wake you up," Agron replied, and Nasir made him stand up, but Agron held him back.

"Sleep a little bit. We are not going to break up all of them. I will go with Spartacus and Donar."  
"And I will accompany you," Offered Nasir, but Agron shook his head. "I know you would strengthen our group. I would also like to see us all looking for Duro. But Spartacus was right when he said that a small group can travel more discreetly. We can pretend to be merchants. It works better than if we were half an army."  
"But..." nasir disagreed, but Agron shook his head. 

"Basically, he would have liked Nasir to be with him. He felt comfortable in each other's company and he also believed that the young Syrian would be an asset in the search. Moreover, he did not know how he would react if it turned out that the young man who was on the run with Pietros was ultimately not Duro.  
But he was also worried about the Syrian, and he said nasir was safer in the larger group, surrounded by many gladiators and fighters. Spartacus also seemed to agree. 

"I have to pretend to be a harmless traveller and we have to behave inconspicuously," Agron said. "And Spartacus also believes that Duro and Pietros are looking for us. I'm actually assuming that."  
Still, he looked insecure, and Nasir guessed the reason. "You worry that everything could turn out to be a mistake or even a bad joke?

Agron nodded and was glad that Nasir was saying what he himself was so much in foregoing all the time. "Yes, think about it. For I now have the hope that it could be the truth and that Duro will soon be by my side again. But if it turns out to be a mistake or a lie, it will almost be as if I will lose it a second time. I just started to come to terms with his death a little bit and there was something else in my mind.…"  
He looked briefly in Nasir's direction, while the Syrian gently grabbed his arm with his hands. "I understand you and I wish you luck, even if I am not happy that I should stay here. But if this is Spartacus's order, then I will stick to it, even if It's Hard for Me. If it was my older brother, I would probably look for him, even if I didn't even know what he looked like.…"

He and Nasir had talked about the Syrian's brother, even though he didn't know much about him. But he remembered that Nasir was the name his older brother had called him.

"How many years is he older?" asked Agron, and Nasir shrugged. "I remember once talking about eight years. I think he told me. I just walked him to the waist and he seemed very big to me. I remember him carrying me on his back and we were having fun. Then there were two girls. They were also older than me. Maybe they were sisters or playmates. But I don't even know his or her names anymore. I just remember him calling me Nasir and calling my name the last time I saw him. I think it was on a ship. And then I was at my dominus and never saw him again."  
"And the girls? Were they with you?" agron asked, but Nasir shook his head. "No, they weren't there. I was alone with my brother."

"I'm very sorry," Agron said, glad that he at least knew his brother and had many memories of him, even if the last ones were so painful.  
And now this might not be the last memories of his brother…

A little later, Nasir watched Spartacus, Agron and Donar leave, and he looked after them for a long time as they rode away on their horses. They carried two horses with them, on which they had stored luggage. They pretended to be merchants, and it would have been unusual if they had travelled completely without luggage or possible goods.   
In addition, if they found Duro and Pietros, they also needed mounts to travel fast enough.   
The three gladiators had not mentioned the latter, but it was written in their faces that they had this hope.  
Letitia and Chadara were also present at the departure of the three. The old cook in particular seemed to be very worried. The idea that one of her protégés had been in prison for weeks and may have suffered there obviously depressed her.

"He suffered so much from the death of his lover Barca and then there was this disgusting Gnaeus. He's had it so hard," she said sadly. "And why did Damaris lie? Why didn't she say where he was? When I meet the girl again, she gets to feel my spoon!"  
"You will take care of Pietros when he is back with you. You will first make him something good to eat and make sure that he can recover from the hardships."   
Nasir tried to comfort the cook and she gave him a grateful smile. "Yes, I will. He will certainly be able to use a little affection."

"Spartacus, Donar and Agron risk a lot just to find two missing people!" Chadara said, displeased. "There are only two and there are so many here!"  
Letitia snorted out, then reached for Nasir's arm. "I'm doing something warm to drink. It's cold this morning. You certainly want to have something!"  
Nasir followed Letitia into the kitchen and he noticed that the cook had not asked Chadara to accompany her as well. Apparently, she resented the remark about the missing.  
He turned to Chadara, but the young woman had already left. She would probably go back to Rhaskos in bed.

**Village Market Square**

Pietros walked as inconspicuously as possible, wrapped in his coat, across the market square of the small village. There was a lot of activity and he wasn't the only one who wore such a coat because of the cooler weather. He had been a little worried about this, after all, he had stolen it in a neighboring village.  
But since he had already met three men with the same coats at the entrance to the village, he did not stand out much.   
He had his coat tightly wrapped around him and his collar and brand was hidden. Still, he regretted not owning a scarf.  
On the other hand, it was spring by now and he would have been too noticeable with a scarf, despite the not very warm weather. But it worked with the coat, too, and after strolling across the market for a while, he calmed down a little. 

Because there were also many market visitors from other places, he did not stand any further and now stood at a stand and bought bread and cheese. He had taken the money for his purchase with him in his last theft in the village.  
He was aware that he and Duro had been near this village for too long. The next day, they would continue their search for the rebels. But they had wanted to wait for the market day, partly because they were hoping for information from market visitors. Had there been further raids on villas? And if so, where did they take place?  
He hoped that he would find such a clue as to the whereabouts of the others.   
Duro had actually wanted to accompany him, but Pietros had tried to persuade him to do so. If a dangerous situation were to occur, Pietros alone would be able to escape more quickly.

Of course, Duro wasn't really happy with this decision, but they ultimately made it together. Pietros took his time packing the purchases, because the two women standing next to him had a very interesting conversation.  
"Another villa was raided. And the city commander of Capua was relieved of his position. But Glaber is now looking more closely for the gladiators. You're not sure about your life anymore," said one of the two women, a Roman woman who wore fairly simple clothes.

"Cursed slaves," the other Roman woman hissed. "My slave is also getting more and more rebellious. She needs the whip again. The other day, she deliberately dropped my fruit platter. I'm sure it was intentional.“  
Pietros hoped that the girl did not really feel the whip. But apparently the Romans gradually became restless and feared that more and more slaves could take an example from Spartacus and join it.  
Unfortunately, there was no information about which villa or hideout the rebels were in at the moment.   
But there were more stalls he wanted to go to.  
Although he kept his outer signs, which marked him as escaped slaves from the house of Batiatus, obscured, it was obvious to most that he was most likely a slave.

Most probably assumed that he had come to the market with his dominus and that he was in the village tavern while his slave was doing the shopping.  
"Out of the way," said a Roman woman at a booth selling ointments and tinctures, pushing him aside as she pushed herself.   
Of course, she was entitled to be served in front of the slave, and she began to tell the seller about her mother-in-law's digestive problems.   
The trader, who was happy to have found a good customer, patiently explained the various helping means and Pietros wondered if they actually helped.

The woman eventually sighed depressed. "Actually, she only has so many health problems because she is so worried about these slaves. It is good that the new praetor is now cracking down, but it leaves runaway slaves and those who pronounce the name Spartacus partly executed at the market in Capua. She saw that and she was very excited. She hasn't been doing well since and it's hitting her stomach.“

The trader smiled sympathetically and handed her another tincture. "It ensures a quiet sleep and is good for digestive problems. It also ensures good skin! You can also wash your hair and feet with it!"  
"Really?" the woman inquired, and Pietros couldn't suppress a grin.   
He quickly looked in a different direction. All he knew was that he wouldn't use this tincture for washing his hair or drinking. Probably the roman lady's mother-in-law would be worse off afterwards, and the trader would sell her another medicine.

She sighed with depressed as the trader looked at her kindly and held up another means. "That's also very good. And I can even reassure you in one respect. A few days ago I set up my stand half a day's trip away. There I met a few slaves at the market. I don't know if they belonged to the Spartacus gang of robbers. But they talked about raiding the villa of a rich Roman named Aulus, very close to where I was at the time. But when they're there you're definitely safe in your house here. I even know this Aulus. I once sold him some medication for his digestive problems. If you ask me, the man eats too much. But the funds will certainly have helped him! And otherwise it can be used in other ways."

The woman actually sighed a little relieved, bought the remedies and now it was Pietro's turn. He bought an ointment that helped against tense muscles and pain. He even knew what he was looking for, because the Medicus in the Ludus had often used this ointment with the gladiators. Pietros wanted to get the medicine for Duro, perhaps they helped his abdominal muscles, which were affected by the injury and are now weakened and still aching.   
It was worth a try at least and he wanted to give his friend a little relief.  
The merchant handed him the ointment and did not try to sell him any other remedies. He assumed that a slave worked out his shopping list for his dominus and had to reckon with a penalty with additional money.

But Pietros, for his part, had another question. "I heard about this Aulus before. My Dominus is also very worried about this. Where exactly does this Aulus live? And do the soldiers know about it?"  
The man shook his head.   
"No, I'm not running to the soldiers. In the end, I suspect I have something to do with the rebels. But when it comes to business, well, I've already revealed that information. This woman probably doesn't worry about going beyond the digestive problems of her mother-in-law, who is certainly very ill-tempered."  
He drew Pietros a bit far. "And your Dominus is also worried?"

Pietros nodded and looked at the man as kindly as possible. "Yes, he is a little anxious because one of his rich relatives died so horribly in the House of Batiatus."  
The man shrugged briefly and Pietros knew he had reached his goal, even if he took a risk. But apparently the merchant, with the simple but good and clean cloak, considered him the slave of a Dominus, who was related to a member of the Roman nobility who had been killed in the house of Batiatus.

"I'll tell you where the house is. Then you can calm your dominus, boy. And if he thinks it is better to inform the praetor, then he will certainly be very grateful. If your Dominus is looking for a career, it's certainly helpful for him if he's helped to bring Spartacus down."  
He told Pietros where the Villa des Aulus was and he listened attentively.

Duro looked up when Pietros returned and handed him some of the bread and fruit he had bought.  
Then he sat down next to Duro and handed him the ointment. "Here, maybe that helps against your wound. And I learned something else. Spartacus wanted to attack the house of a man named Aulus. And I know where it is."  
Duro got up. "Then we should leave immediately. Maybe they're still there or at least they're in the area where they've gone.'  
He reached for the ointment and turned away as he pulled up part of his tunic. Pietros knew that it was unpleasant for Duro to even let others close to his wound, so he did not offer to help, even if he had done so under different circumstances.  
Duro rubbed the ointment on his skin, but avoided his scars simply because the skin there was still too sensitive.

Nevertheless, after a short time he felt a certain relief and he looked at Pietros gratefully. "I think it helps. This will make it easier to get to this Aulus. But we should leave now. And... you did it all very well."  
Pietros looked at the other in amazement. 'It wasn't that hard. I only played the stupid little slave who is loyal to his dominus. Sometimes I wonder if we are still slaves or not."  
Duro thought for a moment. "If it goes after the Romans yes. And we are recognized as slaves. But should these laws apply to us? Spartacus disagrees."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reunion in this chapter. I hope you like it.

Duro and Pietros followed the Roman road, but always made sure that bushes and trees nearby would provide enough cover should they have to hide quickly. Nevertheless, they had chosen this path, as they made much faster progress there than through the undergrowth.

They progressed slowly and Pietros was annoyed that he had not been able to find shoes for himself and his companion. Both feet had scratches and small cuts through stones and branches.

In addition, Despite the ointment, which brought him some relief, Duro often had to take a break. Both knew that they would travel longer than half a day in this way.  
But at least they now had a goal and an approximate indication of where they could find the wanted. That was more than anything they had had before.

During a rest around the afternoon, they had left the road and dragged themselves back into the forest, Duro leaned exhausted against a tree trunk and Pietros took off his coat and rolled it up. "Come on, put your head on it and rest a little. It's way too warm to wear a coat anyway."

During the day the weather had improved and the sun was shining. But Duro seemed to freeze and didn't get rid of his warmer clothes. 

"May I?" asked Pietros anxiously, and Duro nodded as Pietros placed a hand on his forehead.  
"No fever. But we both need a bit of rest, just for a moment!" said Pietros softly as he heard a noise.

It was a quiet beeping and Pietros got up and went after the noise. He saw a small bird that had apparently fallen out of a nest and he noticed the fox approaching the little animal.

Pietros reached for a small stone lying on the forest floor and threw it at the fox, intentionally narrowly missed him and he ran away.

Then he picked up the little bird and looked up. In fact, there was a nest at some height. Other young birds stretched out their heads and apparently waited for the mother's food.

"I think I have to put you back," Pietros said to the little bird, looking more closely at the tree. He was not too hard to climb and so he sat not long after on a branch next to the nest and put the little bird in it. At the same time, he was able to look up to the nearby road from his location and saw several Roman soldiers riding along the road.

As fast as he could, Pietros descended from the tree and ran back to Duro, who had nodded in the meantime. He sat next to him and listened to approaching hoof sounds or steps. But the soldiers didn't seem to care about them, or they had no idea they were nearby.

Pietros thought of the little bird and he remembered Barca's birds. He had taken it from his former lover Auctus after his death and after Barca's death he, Pietros, had taken care of the animals for a while. He hoped that the birds would cope in freedom and not have already fallen victim to a fox or other animal.

At least they were not persecuted by soldiers, as Duro and he did.

Spartacus and his two companions used the road. After all, there was no reason for merchants who wanted to offer their goods not to do so. They had hidden their weapons under their coats.  
Around noon they met two merchants who were heading in the opposite direction, as well as a squad of soldiers, who took a quick look at them, but then paid no further attention to the supposed traders.

From their brief conversations, they heard that the soldiers had been out all night and were now longing to stop at a tavern in Capua as soon as possible.

They rode past Spartacus and the others and left them untroubled.

"Hopefully they're not in a completely different area," Donar said after a while expressing his fears.   
"We will listen soon. Maybe someone saw her or heard about them. I've already come up with several stories that we could tell people if we asked for them!" Spartacus replied thoughtfully.

"Crixus should have already broken up," Agron said.

Near Aulus Villa, a wealthy merchant owned a house. The man knew pretty much every slave trader that existed far and wide. This was told by Aulus Crixus himself.

Spartacus nodded. 'I hope it doesn't get too much attention. But this merchant could give him some names that might help him find Naevia."

At some distance there was a house, apparently a tavern, where probably regular travelers came.  
"We should go in there," Donar suggested, and Agron cast a mischigre look at his friend. "We are looking for my brother and we should not spend our time in a tavern!"

But Spartacus seemed to approve the proposal. "Perhaps our chances of finding him are greatest when they go to such places. Duro and Pietros could do the same to get information. If they manage to cover their arm, they could mingle with the guests and ask if anyone has heard anything about us. Drunks are often quite good at listening."

Agron had to admit that this possibility existed and therefore the three alleged merchants tied up their horses in front of the tavern shortly afterwards and went in. The tavern was well filled despite the early afternoon, and Agron handed his two companions a cup of wine shortly afterwards, while a Roman soldier joined them and picked up his own cup.  
"On the new praetor. And on Captain Aurelius! Maybe the new commander will!"

"Would that be good?" asked Donar, and the drunken soldier, whose armor was already covered in wine stains, laughed and slapped the gladiator vigorously on the shoulder. "Of course! Because of him, you merchants can travel on the streets again untroubled."

He made arrangements to slap Agron on the shoulder, but he skilfully dodged him by placing the wine cups on a table.   
"Yes, good that you are doing such a good job," Spartacus praised the drunken soldier. "There is a lot of trouble with escaped slaves."  
"That's true," the soldier said with a laugh. "But Glaber recently executed a few in the city. You should have heard the whining. Are outrageous and run away. But if they're in a state of life, it's...".  
"Tiziano, you're talking too much," another soldier interjected. "Go to sleep out your intoxication. We have to be in Capua tonight and so you shouldn't look Glaber in the eye!"  
"You sound like Aurelius," Tiziano grumbled. "He doesn't understand fun! I just wanted to have a cup of wine with my new friends!"

"Aurelius will also have to report! He's also looking for Spartacus and his pack! You know that!" said the soldier Tiziano, who stole from it with his wine cup in his hand.

"You don't have an easy life!" said Spartacus, and the soldier shrugged.   
"It's difficult at the moment. We are still looking for this Spartacus and a few criminals who have escaped from prison. Aurelius takes it almost personally that two of them escaped him. I don't want to get stuck in her skin when he catches her! He said he was far too friendly to them and should have done a lot more to them!"

"Of course we will report it when we see them!" promised Spartacus, and the soldier looked at him gratefully.   
"We rely on such information. We had already received information. Earlier, a woman told me that she noticed a young man in a market that matched the description of one of the slaves. Dark skin, curly hair, former house slave. The name was Pietros or something like that. One of the two slaves who wants to get his hands on Aurelius. Of course, his arrest would be nothing compared to Spartacus's. But we'll catch it at some point. Some of us are still looking for this Pietros, if he was, near the village..."

"What's the name of the village?" asks Spartacus, while Donar Agron pulled aside. "Please don't do anything ill-considered now! Let Spartacus have the conversation! I know you!"

"What do you think of me?" Agron hissed indignantly. 'That I'm dragging this guy out now and giving him all the information he could have? I'm not crazy!"

"You were it for a while..." Donar asked, handing Agron a mug of wine. " We should drink and then go. Spartacus has ended his conversation with the soldier. But it's actually good news. We know Pietros was nearby. And he may at least know what happened to Duro. Maybe they're on the road together!"

Agron hoped for this, and he quickly emptied his wine cup at least halfway through, while Spartacus nodded to the soldier again before leaving the dining room with his two companions.  
"We were really lucky that we got a hint right in the first inn. The gods must mean well to us today!"

After a while, Duro sat up and he reached for the water bottle next to him. They still had enough supplies, but hopefully they would be able to refill the bottles soon. After all, they did not know when they would reach the house of this Aulus and whether his brother and the others were still there.

He wondered how Agron would react if his younger brother, whom he thought was dead, suddenly stood alive in front of him. Duro hoped for a joyful hug, but knew the moment would not be easy. Would Agron trust his eyes? Still, he hoped that the joy would eventually prevail with both of them.

"Are you thinking about your brother?" Pietros finally asked, as they walked silently through the forest side by side, and Duro smiled briefly. Apparently he was quite easy to see through or Pietros was a good observer.

"Yes, I worry about what it will be like for him when I stand before him. He thinks I'm dead and I'm sure he's grieving or still grieving. And now everything is changing again for him..."

'I'd be happy if Barca suddenly came alive in front of me. Somehow, at first, shortly after I learned of his death, I even hoped. But unfortunately I did not receive such a gift and now I finally know that I will not get it!" replied Pietros and Duro remained silent. 

He and Agron would get what Pietros so much wanted and what was lost to him forever.

"He will be glad to see you!" said Pietros, pointing to a tree. "I put a small bird back in its nest there. He had fallen out. He certainly didn't expect to see his parents and siblings again."

Duro thought to himself that Pietros was probably one of the kindest people he knew. He even took care of a small, helpless animal. He hoped that this friendly young man would never again fall into the hands of the Romans.

The sun was already low and Spartacus and his two companions were still on the street, looking for clues on the bushes and trees to see if anyone had left the road. They also took the risk of not wearing hoods so that Duro or Pietros, if they hid anywhere nearby, would know who they had in front of them.  
They weren't sure if they were on the right track and whether the young man this woman wanted to recognize was actually Pietros. 

But to start the search at this point was as good or bad as doing it elsewhere. 

They heard riders approaching and tried again to look like harmless travelers, but were soon surrounded by eight Roman soldiers who looked at them in detail.  
Eventually, one of them reached for Spartcus' arm and laughed. "I know the man! This is Spartacus! I saw him in the arena and was with Glaber several times in the Ludus. That's where I saw him. I'm not so sure about the other two."

He laughed contemptuously as his comrades drew their swords. "A few insignificant gladiators who never made it to real fame!"

Spartacus knew that these words were an insult to Agron and Donar, and he was glad that they both had a good grip on each other and did nothing ill-considered, because their opponents were outnumbered.  
Agron, in particular, would have reacted differently recently and probably fell on the first Roman and knocked him off the horse. But now he reacted more calmly...

However, in their current situation, they could only lose if they did nothing. They had been recognized, and Spartacus did not think of surrendering to the soldiers and being taken to Capua Prison.

He reached for the sword hidden under his cape, and even before the soldiers knew what was happening, one of them, pierced by the weapon, fell into the street from his horse.  
The other soldiers drew their swords, but before they could really react, Agron had slit one of them in the throat, while Donar carried a blow against another assailant.

The man's arm was severed and the injured man clutched the stump with a scream.

Three of the remaining five soldiers did not give up so easily, but two of them rode away and smashed their way into the undergrowth. They would probably have to leave their horses behind sooner or later. One of the refugees' comrades looked after them in anger. "Cowards!" he hissed furiously as he slammed his sword at Donar and grabbed him on the upper arm, but screamed loudly as Spartacus pierced him with his weapon.

"Did you hear that?" asked Duro, and stopped. "Someone was screaming."

Pietros nodded. He, too, had heard the outcry some distance away. "That must have come off the road. Maybe someone had an accident with a horse or a Carriage. Or it will be fought...."

But they didn't know what was going on and who was fighting whom. Still, Duro wanted to know what happened.  
"Wait here, Pietros. I'll look!" he said, but the other shook his head and held him by the arm. "Are you sure? If so, I'll come along. But..."

"We should be careful," Duro replied, and they went in the direction from which the scream had come.

They tried to move as quietly as possible and they quickly hid behind a bush as voices and steps approached them.  
"I think we dropped Spartacus and the others! We should have persecuted them and then attacked them with many more men!" said one of the two men who identified Duro and Pietro as Roman soldiers.

So at least Spartacus, probably other of the gladiators, was nearby. Duro could almost not believe the luck that he and Pietros had that day. Unfortunately, they had to get past these two soldiers first, who now stopped and looked around to all evil.

They apparently noticed a movement behind the bush and both rushed there with their swords drawn, while Duro threw out a curse. They had behaved too conspicuously and this should never have happened!

"More of these escaped slaves," said one of the two soldiers, throwing his sword at Duro, who was able to dodge him at the very last moment, but the soldier was quicker and punched him in the face, causing him to fall to the ground.

Pietros didn't fare much better. He, too, received a blow, took a few steps back and stumbled across a root. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and, like one of the soldiers before him, he screamed...

"Spartacus will not save you!" said one of the soldiers, leaning over Duro, who surprised the man when he quickly grabbed his hair and pulled him to the ground.  
The soldier tried to strike him, but Duro managed to grab the attacker's hand and roll a piece to the side, while Pietros again screamed when one of the soldiers squatted next to him and held his sword to his throat.

"You both better give up if you don't want me to kill him here on the spot!" the soldier hissed angrily, and he pushed Pietros to the ground unscathed and inflicted a slight cut on his neck. A little blood poured out and Duro suspended his defence. 

Perhaps there was an opportunity soon when Pietros got rid of the sword on his neck...

But then the Roman soldier was torn to the side and a sword drilled into his chest. Duro heard the other Roman screaming and saw as he looked to the side that he was also collapsing dead while someone next to Pietros was on his knees. He recognized Spartacus.

Then he was dragged into a hug himself, and when he noticed who was hugging him, he also pushed the other so tightly.

This hug was familiar, he had known her all his life...

"Agron," he mutters, feeling tears rising.

Any doubts he had recently cherished and his concern about whether it was really right to bring down his brother's world had disappeared. These thoughts had been so nonsensical. At last they were both back at each other's side and everything was good.

Agron, too, felt as if a barely encrusted wound, until recently still bleeding heavily, was finally healing. His brother was with him again. He lived and he was breathing. They could later talk about everything that had happened in the Ludus since Duro's supposed death. Now it was only important that they were together again.

"You live..." Agron stammered, pushing Duro even tighter as they both sat on the forest floor.

**In the next chapter there will be more reunions. Agron and Duro also have a lot to tell each other.**


	28. Chapter 28

"You live," Agron said again, and his embrace became firmer, but than he noticed that this caused pain to his brother. He loosened his grip and stroked through the younger man's hair. Duro wore it short now and he seemed exhausted, even if he had not loosened his grip.  
"Are you hurt?" Agron asked softly, and Duro shook his head. "No, I'm not. But what about Pietros?"  
"Spartacus takes care of him!" agron replied, briefly pressing his forehead to his brother's. He noticed how pale the other was. His brother wasn't really healthy, it was obvious.  
But he would make sure he did it again. 

Duro's right cheek discolored a little. There, apparently, a fist had hit him. Agron looked at the soldier he had pushed away from his brother and then killed him. Well, this soldier would no longer punch anyone in the face, let alone a person close to him.

Pietros saw that Spartacus was squatting next to him, but the pain in his ankle made it difficult for him to think clearly at that moment. He hoped he hadn't broken anything, and now Spartacus handed him a cloth to press on the bleeding spot on his neck.  
"I'll take care of your foot right away," Spartacus said, as Pietros looked at him gratefully and then looked over to Duro and Agron. 

At least Duro did not appear to have been injured. He noted this to his relief.

Spartacus, meanwhile, helped him sit up and then gently felt his ankle. "Nothing seems to be broken. Let's see if you can move your foot!"  
This was possible, even if it caused Pietro's pain. Why hadn't he planned better? But it was not his fault that this root was in the way when the soldier beat him.

Eventually, Spartacus and Donar, who had wrapped a cloth around a wound on his arm, helped Pietros get up. 

"Do you make it to the horses? We have a horse for Duro and you!" Spartacus inquired, but Pietros looked at the other in doubt. "I can't ride... I never learned that..."  
Spartacus smiled. 'It's not that bad. The horse is a lamb. It runs next to the other animals and if necessary one of us holds it to the reins!"

Spartacus looked at Pietros and Duro. Both seemed exhausted and the last few weeks seemed to have added to them. The bare feet of the two were scratched and had some minor injuries, but they would soon be healed. He could not see any further wounds, these were hidden, especially in Duro's case, by the clothes, both wearing dark coats.

The healer would take care of both as soon as they returned to the villa.

Donar turned to Agron and Duro. "I don't want to disturb your reunion. But I would also like to hug Duro and be glad that he is still alive. We should also watch as we disappear from here before more Romans appear!"

Agron turned to Duro and helped him get up. "You can run?"

Duro nodded approvingly and his brother put an arm around his shoulder as they slowly walked to the horses.  
Once there, Spartacus and Donar Duro gave a brief hug before helping Pietros on the horse. Meanwhile, Duro also rose and he was glad that they could ride to the Villa des Aulus.

He turned to Pietros. "What does your foot do? Is it bad?"

Pietros nodded. 'It hurts. But it will go. 

It had been a long time since Duro had last sat on the back of a horse, but he had learned to ride in his childhood in Germania, as well as Agron. He also liked these animals and stroked his horse, a brown stallion, over his neck.

Agron rode beside him and looked at him anxiously, as if he feared that his brother might collapse from exhaustion and fall off the horse at any moment.  
"Agron, I'm fine," he said, giving the elder a soothing smile, but knew that Agron knew him very well and wouldn't be reassured.

"Do I really look so bad?" he asked, and Agron nodded. 'You don't look good. But that's understandable...."

They had fallen a little behind the others with the horses, but still tried not to lose the connection.  
"What... has happened? You were...dead. I was sure..." Agron finally asked, adding: "I didn't know. I didn't know you were still alive. I... thought you were dead. If I had guessed it or even suspected it..."  
"No one of you probably could have helped me. This was done by the roman doctors in the headquarters of the city guard!" Duro interrupted his brother with a sad smile. 

"I should have been there!" agron disagreed, but Duro gave him a sad look. "Then you would probably have been locked up in a cell, just like Pietros. And Aurelius would not have treated you better than us...."

"Who is this Aurelius? What did he do?" asked Agron, and Duro looked at his brother for letting the man die a thousand deaths in his mind, even though he didn't even know exactly what had happened.

Basically, he shared Agron's view, but the memories of Aurelius were the worst he had of his time in prison, so he didn't want to think too much about him, but he knew Agron would keep asking. "Aurelius... was responsible for the interrogations. He gave me blows with joy against my barely healed wound. His only friend, and I am not surprised that he has no other friends, died in the Ludus, where we fought. Maybe even one of us killed him. And for that he wanted to punish me. And Pietros too. Aurelius broke his nose..."

Duro remained silent for a moment before he spoke again. 'I don't want to whine like a little girl. It's over now and we were able to escape. A few pirates were helpful..."  
"I've heard about it. What happened to them?" asked Agron, who reluctantly accepted that Duro did not want to talk about his experiences with this Aurelius. 

"It was originally five pirates," Duro said. "Two didn't make it. The other three wanted to return to their comrades and apparently had a plan for this. They asked us if we wanted to accompany them, but we wanted to look for you. Pietros knew how to get into the sewers, but you weren't there anymore..."

Agron rode closer to Duro's horse, leaned toward him, put an arm around him and briefly pressed the younger one.  
Again, he noticed the pallor of the other. In fact, Duro still needed time to recover and he would make sure he got that time.  
"But rather tell you and the others. Even in prison we have seen the Romans almost get into their pants..." Duro inquired about his brother's experiences. 

Agron grinned. "Yes, we have done a lot for our bad reputation. I don't think Spartacus had any plans to make it so public. But at least around Capua we are probably on everyone's mouth."  
Duro thought of his comrades from the Ludus." And what about the others? Did everyone survive? I know from Hamilcar that he is dead... and also from Florus. He also died."  
Duro recalled not being allowed to mention Gnaeus, at least he did not want to reveal what Pietros had told him about the exact circumstances of his death.

"Yes, we have learned this from Damaris. Gnaeus is also dead. The others have more or less made it out of the Ludus. Iras met Damaris at the market. But she said that Pietros voluntarily stayed with Lucretia, along with her and Ashur. She probably even knew about you, but the Beast didn't say a word about you being in jail!" said Agron, angrily.

Apparently he seemed as annoyed by the young woman's behaviour as Pietro swelled.

"And the doctors at headquarters treated you decently?" Agron asked, and Duro answered the question in the affirmative.  
"They did what they could to keep the soldiers off my body as best they could! Alexios, the first Medicus, sometimes gave Pietros and me extra food. He was not a particularly gentle person, but he did what he could to make me stay alive, even though Commander Drusus certainly did not order him out of philanthropy!"

Duro reached for Agron's arm. "But what about you? I hope you don't... too much..."

""To mourn for you?" asked Agron. "Of course I have! But I made the Romans pay for what they did. Ask Donar and Spartacus. They will confirm to you that I almost went mad."  
"I'm sorry," Duro replied softly, but Agron shook his head. "You don't have to feel sorry for something. Don't you! Recently I was a little better and then I learned that you were alive. We went in search..."

A smile scurried over Agron's face. "I've been a little bit better since I met...someone...."

Duro looked at his brother inquiringly.


	29. Chapter 29

Duro looked at his brother with a mixture of curiosity and astonishment. Of course, it wasn't the first time Agron had been interested in anyone. But Agron's look and smile when he talked about it were different.  
"Who is it? But none of the other gladiators, right? After all, you would have had the opportunity earlier. Is it one of the house slaves?" duro asked quietly, unaware of how Spartacus and Donar knew and whether Agron was right to make the rounds.

"No, no gladiator, nor any of the house slaves from the house of Batiatus. It is a young man from one of the villas where we have recently freed the slaves and searched for Naevia. He is Syrian and his name is Nasir..." said Agron, and Duro briefly remembered that Ashur was also from Syria.  
On the other hand, this also applied to Matay, whom he had met in prison, and Syrians were not the same As Syrians, although he could vividly imagine that Crixus had most likely already made such remarks. 

"Is he a warrior?" asked Duro, and Agron grinned. "He's on his way there."

"Then you share the bed with each other?" asked Duro, and he didn't know what to think of this whole thing. He hoped that his brother would not get into something and wondered what kind of man this Nasir was.  
'We're not that far away. It is a friendship at the moment, if at all. But..." agron replied.

"He's hoping for more!" thought Duro, and Agron lowered his voice a little.

"What about you and this Pietros? Friendship? Something else?"

"Friendship!" Duro replied almost immediately. "You know..."  
"Yes, mostly it was women you were interested in," Agron said. "There was the daughter of this merchant, whose father would have preferred to kill you with his axe..."  
"Don't remind me! He also didn't make it. And why did he have to follow her everywhere? Otherwise he would never have caught us when we were in the forest..." duro said, a little embarrassed.

"He just prevented you from doing it with his daughter and I just prevented him from smashing his skull with his axe because I followed him when he followed you," Agron recalled the first time Duro showed interest in a girl.   
He was sorry to disturb the younger and the young woman when they met, but he had to stop the outraged father from defending his daughter's honor with his brother's fractured skull.

The father had taken the protesting girl by the hand and pulled it behind her.

The next day the merchants had left and they had never been seen again, while Duro was swaying around with love grief for a while.

The next time Duro fell in love with the youngest daughter of the village blacksmith. They had known each other since childhood, but then they got closer at a party. This relationship even seemed to last for a while, and Agron's and Duro's mother was already looking forward to an upcoming engagement party, but then her sons, her husband and others had moved into the fight against the Romans...

Duro and Agron knew that the young woman had been quite popular with the young men in the area. Duro had driven out two of them with his fists as they wandered outside their house. They assumed that she had turned to someone else by now.

Agron had always judged the young woman to be a girl who would mourn for too long if she lost her lover. By now, the brothers had been away from home for so long that a more faithful soul would probably not wait.

"Even if I was interested, it would be in vain," Duro said abruptly. "Pietros is still grieving for Barca. And he doesn't think that's ever going to change. Some people are like that. Not everyone is like Frieda from our village."

Frieda had been a middle-aged woman who had managed to get married three times in a year after her first husband died of a fever and her second in combat. A month after his death, she had already shown up with her third husband.  
"Probably she's been married four more times since we left," said Agron, who remembered his mother's disapproval of the woman.

"The last girl you liked was this Damaris! You thought she was pretty and always stared up at her when she went to the balcony," Agron recalled, and Duro looked at his brother a little distressed. "Yes. I thought she was pretty. And once I stared at her during a fight with Crixus. I've never been on the floor so fast and he had something to make fun of again.'

Duro smiled a little sadly. "Unfortunately, Damaris thinks gladiators are monsters. Pietros told me."  
"Monster?" asked Agron, laughing. "Then be glad that you didn't fall seriously in love with her and that it stayed with a rave."  
"I'd rather tell me how you got to know this Nasir," Duro changed the subject, which was not very glorious for him.

Pietros rode next to Spartacus and looked around. Duro and Agron followed with a certain distance, and he understood that the brothers wanted to talk to each other in peace. Surely there were some things they had to talk about.  
"Pietros, you don't look really good either!" Donar said, and the younger man shrugged.   
They had helped him and had set out in search of Duro and him. For this he was deeply grateful to the three former gladiators.

"We found Barca," he said suddenly to Spartacus. "In the sewersystem. They dumped his body there after killing him. He didn't leave me, at least not voluntarily."  
'I didn't really believe that either. And you say it's in the sewer? We now ride to one villa, to the others. There you can both rest. Soon we will move on, towards Vesuvius. We will be able to hide there better and plan how to proceed. But tell us beforehand where exactly we find Barca."

"He deserves a decent funeral and a funeral," Donar said, adding: "Poor Barca. He was so looking forward to a life of freedom!"

Pietros was glad to hear these words. It made him relieved that Spartacus and Donar Barca's body did not seem to want to be left in the sewer.

"How did you know that we fled and that Duro is still alive?" Asked Pietros, and Spartacus told him in brief words how they had learned the truth about him and the supposedly dead gladiator.  
"And Damaris said to Iras that I stayed with Lucretia?" asked Pietros. "But she knew it wasn't."  
"We now know that too. I think she was insecure and scared herself. Maybe that explains their behavior, even if it had consequences for you and Duro that we would have liked to have spared you."  
"Yes, maybe..." replied Pietros, who was far more reluctant to deal with Damaris in his thoughts. But Spartacus probably saw it as a waste of time to direct his anger at a young girl.  
He was, after all, faced with very different enemies who could do far more harm to him and all of them than Damaris.

**Rome**

Lucretia held a hand mirror in her hand and looked closely. She was satisfied with what she saw and she was glad that the trip to Rome, which had almost been an escape from Glaber and Ilithyia, had not exhausted her too much.

She knew it would take her a while to settle into the house that once belonged to her father-in-law Titus. Titus Batiatus had not spent too much time there either, and only lived there from time to time when he was in Rome for a short time. Most of the time he had been in Sicily or Capua.

Nevertheless, the whole house had been decorated tastelessly. Much was far too simple for their taste and the colour combination was mostly awful. It was clearly a men's household and she decided to change that as soon as possible.  
But first, accompanied by Matay, she would go to the market the next day to look for a new cook. In addition, she needed one or two slaves to take care of the household and the garden, because the slave who took care of the house in Titu's absence was already very old and confused many things by now.

So he had approached Matay with Quintus and inquired about Titus. But he had served the family faithfully, and her late husband had liked him as a child and sometimes reported from him, his name was Marcian. So she didn't mind selling somewhere where he certainly wouldn't fare too well.

Again, she wondered if this new softness was related to her pregnancy.

She was pleased that, although she had only been in Rome for such a short time, she had already received an invitation from her old friend Ione. Ione, Gaia, and they had often played together in their childhood, and were toned out through the garden of Ione's parents, who were the wealthiest of them.   
It would be nice to see Ione again and she wanted to introduce Lucretia to her other girlfriends.  
It was not only for personal reasons that it was important to make new friends and the girlfriends of Ione came partly from higher circles and she was married to a former former senator, who was now retired. She had already learned this.

**Villa from Aulus**

It was already dark when Spartacus and his companions reached the Villa des Aulus. One of the villa owner's former house slaves opened the gate and let them in.

The riders got off the backs of their horses and Duro rushed to Pietro's side and helped him get down, as he still couldn't perform properly with his injured foot. Pietros looked around unsettled as several people rushed towards him and Duro.

Two gladiators joined Duro in one by one and another patted him on the shoulder. "You live! We thought you were in the next world for a long time!" said one of them.  
Then the gladiators were pushed aside a little and Letitia stood before Pietros. Her eyes were wet and she closed him in her arms and pressed him firmly on himself. "Pietros! At last! We were so worried! Iras will also be overjoyed."

"That's me!" Pietros heard a familiar voice, and then Iras approached him and gently stroked over his back. "I couldn't believe it when Letitia told me you were in prison. I am sorry. I should have urged Damaris to tell me the truth..."  
"Good. You are not to blame!" said Pietros, pressing the two women on themselves.

"You're staying with us now!" said Letitia, her tone making it clear that she did not tolerate any contradiction before taking a step back and looking at Pietro's anxious. 'But you don't look good. You are pale, despite your dark skin. You certainly haven't slept enough and I don't want to think about the food in prison. But don't worry about it. I'm taking care of you now."

Agron, meanwhile, looked around and for a brief moment left Duro's side to rush toward Nasir. The Syrian stood a little off and watched the arrival of Agron and his companions.  
Agron gave the young man a friendly hug, even though he would have liked to greet him in a different, far more intimate way, and Nasir smiled tentatively at him.

"You were successful? I suppose this is your brother?" asked Nasir, pointing to Duro.

Agron nodded. "Yes, you will get to know him soon. We were lucky that we found them and came to their aid when two Romans threatened them. Although, this came only because they fled from us. But in the end, everything turned for the better."

"Has Crixus returned?" Spartacus inquired, and one of the men who had greeted Duro shook his head. 'No, he hasn't returned yet. We've been expecting him for a while."  
Spartacus frowned, but then turned to Agron. "Will you make sure your brother and Pietros find a place to sleep tonight? They both look like they could urgently need a few hours of rest."

He looked around. "The healer should look at Pietro's foot beforehand."

Nasir turned to Agron. "If you want, they can sleep in our room. I'm looking a little bit different for that night, then you're undisturbed.'

Agron shook his head. "You stay too. There is enough space for all of us."


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. Pietros and Duro are reunited with the other rebels. But Naevia has not yet been found and there are still bills to be paid.

Pietros had laid down on the comfortable camp that Nasir had prepared for him quickly, while the healer bandaged his injured foot. It hurt and he groaned briefly, but the woman shook her head.  
"You were lucky. It's swollen and it's causing you pain. But nothing is broken. Nevertheless, you should spare your foot for a few days and not strain it."

She got up after treating Pietro's foot and turned to Duro, who was sitting tired on his night camp.  
"You also have a wound? Should I look at it?" she asked, but Duro shook his head. "No, it's not necessary..."  
"Duro..." Pietros protested, but then remained silent, while the woman gave both a smile. " Tell me if there should be anything. And where are Agron and Nasir?"  
"Agron is still talking to Spartacus and Nasir is with Letitia," Duro replied, and Pietros added: "She insisted that he accompany her. She has prepared something for dinner and he is supposed to help her carry..."

"Did she slaughter a cow for you?" the healers asked, shaking their heads as she left the room.

Duro leaned back to his night camp and covered himself, while Pietros tried to find a more comfortable position with his injured foot.  
They had both put their clothes down and now put their blankets over them. They were happy to be able to put on something different, fresh the next day, besides there was a bath in the house and they were both looking forward to it.

Duro was already asleep and Pietros slumbered when Nasir entered the room with a tray in his hands. Pietros blinked and saw that the tray was loaded with fruit and meat. There were also four cups from which a little liquid spilled when Nasir placed the tray on the floor.  
Once the slaves of the villa had loaded the tray with food for their dominus, and now it was also used by four former slaves for food transport, as Pietros noted.  
"This is what I shall bring you from Letitia. She couldn't come herself, because she was still preparing something for Crixus and his companions. They would have to be back a long time ago and gradually they are worried. Spartacus and Agron seem to be too, because they are still waiting. However, Agron is quite impatient. He'd rather be here with us.'

"Is he fleeing about Crixus and the cursed Gauls?" Duro inquired, drunk and sitting down when he saw the tray with the food.  
"For us?" he asked, turning to Nasir. "Thank you."  
"Thank you let Letitia," Nasir replied, smiling, adding. "Your brother is actually cursing and he will probably continue with it if Crixus returns and has no good reason for his delay."

"Rightly," Duro muttered, and Nasir couldn't suppress a grin.

Duro had to admit that he liked Nasir after the first meeting. The Syrian had a friendly manner and he was grateful that he was ready for that night to share his and Agron's room with them.

Nevertheless, Duro decided to look for another accommodation for himself and Pietros the next morning. Although his brother and young man had not yet come physically closer, Duro doubted that this would happen if he and Pietros slept between the two.

Finally, Crixus, Acer, Liscus and their other companions returned. Crixus approached Spartacus with a grim smile, who approached him in the entrance area of the villa, followed by a bad-tempered Agron.

"Finally you come," complained the Germane. "I have something else to do other than slap the night waiting for you around my ears."

"Oh, as I see, your search was not successful?" Crisux inquired, and at least Spartacus heard the hint of compassion from the Gaul's voice. Agron cast a sinister glance at him, but then a smile scurried across his face and his response was far friendlier.  
"But we had done it. We found my brother and Pietros...."  
"So Duro is actually still alive," Crixus muttered. "Then there is hope for Naevia as well...."  
"And of course you want to go to them, I understand that," Spartacus, addressing Agron, said. "Let's hear what Crixus has to say and then go to the three. They are certainly already waiting for you and Letitia has prepared you food. I met her earlier."

He turned to Crixus. "A dinner is also waiting for you and your companions. But report what you have experienced. Have you found a clue to Naevia's whereabouts?"

Crixu's gaze darkened. 'It may have been passed on to another villa, but as it looks, this is very uncertain and its trace seems to be getting lost. Maybe she's there too..."  
Crixus looked at Spartacus. "I'll start tomorrow at the latest. I know you want to go to Vesuvius. But I have to find them."  
Spartacus nodded. "I know and I support your search. But give us another day. We leave the day after tomorrow."

Unfortunately, Crixus nodded, and Spartacus and Agron looked at him, that he would have preferred to have stormed off immediately to continue searching for his missing lover. But then the Gaul's face brightened a little. "But my search today was a success..."

Spartacus looked at him inquiringly, while Acer and Liscus led in a man they had grabbed by the arms. It was a Roman soldier and according to his armor he was ranked as a captain.  
"Who is that?" Agron inquired, and Crixus gave the prisoner a small jolt. "We saw ourselves surrounded by Romans. He stayed in the background. We defeated his men and captured him. I wanted to kill him, but he said he was important and a close confidant of Glaber. He might have information for you, Spartacus. I think he just said that so we don't kill him right away, but..."  
"I'll listen to what he has to say tomorrow morning," Spartacus said, addressing Liscus and Acer. "Lock him in the basement and put two guards in front of the door. I'll deal with him tomorrow.'  
"You can't treat me like that! You can't lock me in the basement," the man lamented as the two gladiators dragged him away and Crixus shook his head. "The bravest is not. I think he also took part in the crucifixions before Capua. There was a man begging for mercy."

Spartacus nodded to Agron. "We should all rest now. After all, we will leave the day after tomorrow and continue our search for Naevia. It is important that we leave the area soon. We too were sought by Romans and got into a fight."

Agron nodded briefly to Spartacus and left him and Crixus to rest. The Gaul looked after him. "You actually found Duro alive. I didn't really believe it. And Pietros was with him?"  
Spartacus nodded. "Yes, I almost think the gods helped us in the search for them."

Crixus nodded. "I hope that they will soon help me and Naevia. At least Agron is now likely to become a little more bearable."

Agron entered the room, which he now shared with three residents, and he nodded gratefully to Nasir as he handed him a mug.  
"This is a juice that Letitia has prepared, mixed with a little wine. It's gotten really good. It seems to have done well for your brother and Pietros. And we left you a little bit of the food."  
Agron sat down next to Nasir and looked over at his sleeping brother while Pietros, who was lying on the side, muttered something and then turned to the other side. 

"They wanted to wait. But then they fell asleep. I didn't want to wake them up," Nasir said, a little guilt-conscious, but Agron shook his head and gave him a little smile. "Let them sleep. It's good that they've eaten something as long as it's fresh."  
"Has Crixus returned?" Nasir asked softly.  
"Yes, he brought a prisoner with him. A Roman centurion. And we will leave early the day after tomorrow. I also want to disappear from the surroundings soon, but I would have liked to give my brother a little more time to rest."  
"We will certainly find a new accommodation soon," Nasir replied thoughtfully. "And maybe we will find a permanent hiding place on Mount Vesuvius."

Agron nodded and put a piece of meat in his mouth. Then he emptied his cup. 

But then his face darkened as his gaze fell on Pietro's neck and then that of his sleeping brother. Until now, the collars had remained hidden by their coats, but since they had got rid of their clothes, they were now unmistakable.  
"This collars cannot be removed. Or very difficult. Another reason to pay it back to the Romans. Whoever is responsible will pay for it," he said, and Nasir calmly put a hand on his arm. "Be glad that the two have returned. Anything else can be sorted out somehow."  
"You're right," Agron agreed, realizing that he didn't know everything that had happened to his brother during their separation. He decided to be there the next day when Spartacus interrogated the Roman, of whom he did not yet know his name. But he would find out the next day and he was sure that Crixus would also be present at the interrogation.  
"Hopefully the information he can give is worth it and it's not just trying to save his skin," Agron said as he and Nasir also laid to rest. Nasir blew out the candle that stood next to his night camp and it became dark in the room. 

Agron closed his eyes and thought that he would not have dared to dream of a moment like this recently. His dead brother and a young man, for whom he began to develop deeper feelings, slept with him in a room.

**In the next chapter Lucretia will meet her old friend Ione, a person I invented, who will play a small role.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Chapter.

**Villa of Aulus**

Pietros and Duro had made themselves comfortable in the bath in the warm water. Both enjoyed the relaxing warmth and were happy to wash away the dirt of the last few weeks.  
Both were looking forward to washing their hair, because their scalp was itching and they hoped to solve this problem in this way.

"That's what I did last time at Ludus. But the water was dirtier," Duro recalled, and Pietros sighed. "We were sometimes allowed to bathe in the house. Lucretia didn't want us to smell when guests came to whom we had to serve the food. Unfortunately, however, it did not happen so often. And this bathroom is much bigger."  
"Well, the Dominus should be very wide. Maybe he needs a big bath," Duro suspected, and Pietros couldn't suppress a grin, even if it was mean to make fun of the fat man.

"Spartacus sent riders off this morning. Letitia told me earlier," Pietros said as he washed his hair. "But even she didn't know what it was all about."  
"Maybe this prisoner has reported something important and it's about it," Duro said, closing his eyes after also washing his hair and leaning back.

It was so pleasant and warm in the water and was it so bad to sleep a little bit?

  
A swell of water hit him and he opened his eyes while Pietros looked at him with a laugh. "Wake up. Otherwise you go under and drown. I don't know how to explain this to your brother."  
Duro sent a swell of water back to Pietros and remembered that his last water battle had taken place many years earlier in the lake in the wood near his home village. At the time, he had been a child. But why shouldn't Pietros and he indulge in this harmless fun?

"May I join you?" a voice asked, and the two friends stopped their water battle and saw that a tall man with tanned skin and black hair had entered the bath room.

"Who...?" asked Pietros, who, like Duro, did not yet know this man. He was probably one of the slaves that Spartacus had freed during their absence.

The stranger got into the water and sat between the other two and leaned back comfortably. "I am Menes. Like you, Pietros, I come from Egypt. A king was called like me. That's why Aulus gave me this name. I think I will keep it. Who doesn't want to be called like a king?"  
"And what's your real name? What did your parents call you?" asked Duro, but Menes shook his head. "An insignificant name for a field worker. I had a certain status here. I was one of the bodyguards of Dominus."

He moved a little closer to Pietros, who in turn moved away from him and then got out of the water. "I think I'm getting back on. I'm done.'  
"I'm coming with me," Duro said, also getting out of the water, and Menes looked behind them with a grin. 

It was obvious that Pietros felt uncomfortable in the presence of Menes, and Duro gave the former bodyguard a nasty look.

"The pretty Pietros should rather spend his time with me, his compatriot. But I'm going to convince him. I would like him or this Syrian, Nasir. I'm going to get one of them," he muttered as the other two left the bathroom, with Pietros leaning on Duro because of his injured ankle.

**Rome**

Lucretia gave her friend Ione a joyful smile after entering her villa in Rome's best district. The two women had not seen each other in years and Lucretia had been delighted with the invitation.  
"It's nice to see you, dearest Lucretia. I heard about what happened to you and I was horrified. So it's good to see you healthy again," Ione said.

Lucretia, accompanied by Matay and Damaris, answered the hug of the old friend and followed her when she asked her to go with her to the garden of the villa.  
"Today the weather is so nice. We should spend the morning in the fresh air. Afterwards Iulia and Marcella will arrive. You'll like them."

Ione laughed as two children, a girl and a boy, ran towards her. The older boy, perhaps ten years old, pursued the smaller girl. Lucretia estimated that she was about six years old.  
"Not so wild, play somewhere else," Ione told them, turning to Lucretia. "These are Paris and Helena. My husband chose the names. He loves Homer's writings and likes to be read from it by his favorite slave. He has given him the name Achilleus."

Ione smiled. 'But it's good that I didn't have a third child because he wanted to call another girl Medusa."

She opened the door and entered, followed by Lucretia and her companions, a room where an old and frail-looking man lay on a couch and listened to a young man who recited a poem with a loud voice.

Ione approached the old man and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Magnus, can I introduce you to my friend Lucretia?" she asked aloud, and the man looked at her inquiringly.  
"What did you say, dearest? Lavinia?"

"No, Lucretia. I told you about her," Ione replied with an even louder voice.

The man sat up and smiled at Lucretia kindly. "Welcome to my house. Do you want to listen while Achilleus recited poems by Homer?"  
"Maybe later, dearest. We're going to go back to the garden now," Ione said, leaving the room with Lucretia.

In the garden, the two women sat on couches under a canopy, and a slave placed a plate of fruit on a small table. Lucretia gave Matay and Damaris a wink and allowed them to leave and, with Ione's permission, also had something to eat in the kitchen of the villa.

"So that was your husband, Senator Magnus Valerian Catos?" asked Lucretia, and Ione nodded. "Yes, but he hasn't been in the Senate for a long time. He has retired and enjoys his life with ancient Greek texts, which his slave has to recite to him most of the day. The poorest sometimes have almost no voice in the evenings. But this is his only task and my husband is happy."

Lucretia knew that her friend's husband was more than forty years older than her, but Ione didn't seem unhappy. Probably the old man left her largely alone and was satisfied that she had given him two more children after having an adult son from his first marriage.

Ione smiled. "Marcella, who you will meet right away, is the divorced wife of the former city commander of Capua. But she is very friendly. Maybe she'll bring her adorable little daughter Drusilla. Incidentally, she bears no resemblance to her former husband. She is said to have had an extramarital affair and he unfortunately caught her. It should have been more discreet. But please don't talk about it. She might be uncomfortable, even though she knows everyone knows about it. Everyone is puzzled as to who the man was. And my other guest is Iulia, from the iulier family. Perhaps you have heard of her brother Gaius Julius Caesar? She herself is the wife of Marcus Atius Balbus, a young man from a very good family."

The name Gaius Julius Caesar did indeed say something to Lucretia. "And isn't Marcella's divorced husband, Drusus, the brother of two senators?"

Ione nodded. "Yes, but after what Marcella has told me, the two senators don't get along very well with their younger half-brother. Incidentally, he recently returned from Capua. He has lost his post because of the terrible gladiators who have brought so much misfortune upon you. Marcella said that since then he hasn't left his house and is giving the wine."

Lucretia was now eager to get to know Marcella, but above all Iulia. It couldn't hurt to make friends with the wives and sisters of influential men. 

"Ilithyia and her husband, the Pretor Glaber, are currently living in my house in Capua," Lucretia said, and Ione looked at her compassionately.   
"We all know Ilythia. But none of my girlfriends like her. Me neither. With her, we must always fear that she will stab us in the back with a knife in the back. Of course, this is just a joke we make to each other, but I find her and her husband very uncomfortable, even if he looks very good. Iulia shares my opinion, by the way. She was friends with Licinia, a cousin of Crassus, and somehow she doesn't really know what happened to her. She is full of concern about this. She had always warned Licinia about her friendship with Ilithyia."

Ione looked at Lucretia sadly. "And it is a pity that Gaia cannot be with us today. I heard about her horrific accident. She's supposed to have fallen?"

Lucretia thought that there were many things that Ione didn't know. So she had no idea that Ilithyia Iulia's girlfriend Had Licinia on her conscience and she didn't know what had really happened to Gaia. Perhaps she would tell of what had actually happened when she and Ione had come a little closer and she was able to better assess her and her circle of friends.

Perhaps the knowledge of what happened to Crassus' cousin was useful again. She wondered how Caesar's sister would react when she learned that Ilithyia, whom she didn't like anyway, had her good friend Licinia on her conscience.

**Villa of Aulus**

Spartacus, along with Crixus and Agron, entered the basement room where the prisoner had been locked up at night.  
The man sat in a corner with his legs tightened and looked at them anxiously. This fear was not unfounded, because the probability that he would return to Capua alive or even unscathed was very low.

"You say you have important information for me and you would be a confidant of Glaber?" asked Spartacus, and the man looked at him unsafely. "Yes, I'm important to him. He appreciates me. If you kill me, he will persecute you and kill you."  
"Well, he's going to do that anyway," Spartacus said, and Crixus took a step toward the prisoner.  
"So what difference should it make whether we keep you alive or not? Tell us what you have to say and we will decide what will happen to you."  
"Tell us your name," Spartacus asked the Roman, and he swallowed heavily. "My name is Aurelius and I..."

Spartacus and Crixus were pushed aside, and before they could react, Agron grabbed the prisoner by his tunic and pulled him up. Then he pushed him against the wall and punched his fist in his face.

The man's nose began to bleed and he screamed. He looked imploringly to Spartacus and Crixus, who stood with his arms crossed. "Take away the madman. He wants to kill me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Lucrtia's acquaintances: Ione, her husband, her children and Marcella are invented persons.  
> Iulia was a sister of Caesar. She was married to Marcus Atius Balbus.  
> She was the grandmother of Octavian, who later became known as Emperor Augustus.  
> Anyone who knows the series "Rome" will know Atia, Octavian's mother. She was Iulia's daughter, who at the time of this story would have to be a young teenager. She still had a sister, who was also called Atia (same names among siblings were probably not so unusual among the Romans, so Iulia also had a sister, who was also called Iulia. There were then additions such as "The Elder")."  
> The family history is quite interesting, to read on Wikipedia.


	32. Chapter 32

Aurelius re-examined Spartacus after noting that Crixus would not make any institutions to help him. But perhaps one could speak sensibly with the leader of these escaped slaves?  
"He's going to kill me!" complained Aurelius, when Agron pressed a hand to his neck and then pulled it back to strike again.  
"Wait, Agron," Spartacus said now, and he could see the relief in the prisoner's eyes as the rebel leader grabbed the other gladiator's hand and prevented him from striking again.

At least for now.

Spartacus pulled Agron aside, while Crixus drew his sword and put it to the prisoner's throat. "I just didn't get involved because you're not worth reconnecting me with Agron. But with something you must have upset him and, depending on what it is, I'm not going to stop him from doing anything."

"Is there a specific reason for your behavior towards the prisoner?" asked Spartacus Agron, knowing full well that his friend did not lose control for no reason.  
"Ask my brother," Agron answered, and Aurelius looked at him without understanding. "Your brother? I don't even know your brother."  
"Not? Don't the names of Duro and Pietro tell you anything?" Crixus intervened again, and he held his sword under the soldier's nose before taking another step back. 

Apparently he wanted to give Agron the opportunity to settle with Aurelius.

"But... I didn't do anything to them. They are still alive..." Aurelius defended himself and turned to Spartacus. "Don't let him kill me. Glaber will punish you for that. He will kill you all if something happens to me."  
"You can say what you want about Glaber, and I'm not going to say much good about him," Crixus said, and Spartacus nodded in agreement.  
"But I don't think he's too attached to a coward like you. You're probably one of his creeps," the Gaul added.

"But... I'm important to him!" screamed Aurelius, and Spartacus pushed Agron aside, who was far from happy about it. Then Spartacus Aurelius began to ask some questions, which he also willingly answered as far as he could.However, these were mainly things that Spartacus, Agron and Crixus already knew. Aurelius could not say anything about Naevia's whereabouts and he had no important information about Glaber.

"He wanted to save his skin," Crixus said after the interrogation, addressing Agron. "Do what you want with him. And although Duro and I are not best friends, he is a brother from the Ludus and I don't like it when this toad hurts him. I would demand revenge for anyone who bears our sign."

"I... Aurelius stammered and Agron drew his sword, but Crixus intervened despite his previous words. "But maybe Duro wants to take revenge on himself. Pietros would also have the right, even if I can't really imagine it with him."

Agron hesitated for a moment and looked at Spartacus, who agreed with Crixus. "He's right."

Aurelius, on the other hand, was looking for an escape route, but was knocked to the ground by Agron. 

"You killed my friend," Aurelius once lamented, and Agron nodded, "As we fought against the guards, one of whom had apparently fatally wounded Duro. Maybe he killed your friend. Maybe it was me."  
"But if you mourned for your brother, you know how I was doing. I was even far too friendly to your cowardly brother and this little bastard from the kitchen," said Aurelius, looking as if he would like to spit on the floor.

Now that there really seemed to be no way out for him, he seems to have regained a little courage. At least it was enough for insults.  
"You are rebellious scum. No more. You are slaves and will never be anything else. Never. I had every right to hurt your brother, and I loved doing it. More than once. Apparently he knew nothing because he didn't reveal anything. But his anxious gaze will be remembered forever... Always! And both wear these collars around their necks. Forever. To remove them, you need to cut off their heads. I ordered this and they will always think of me! But I should have disecuted their faces with a fire iron. I would have it in their eyes..."

Agron had heard enough. That this guy called his brother a coward and his other words were just too much for him.

He took off and struck with his sword while Spartacus or Crixus did nothing to stop him. Aurelius screamed again and then his head rolled to the ground and his body collapsed.

Spartacus understood Agron's motives and had already learned that he would not receive any important information from Aurelius, and the captain was not a confidant of Glaber, who could eventually be used for a prisoner exchange. 

Spartacus assumed that Glaber had done nothing to save this man.

Nevertheless, Agron might have acted prematurely and the prisoner would have had another purpose. On the other hand, he shared the view of Agron and Crixus. The man had harmed two members of their community...

"Let's get the body away and see it buried somewhere," Spartacus said, addressing Agron. "It is best you tell Duro and Pietro that Aurelius is no longer alive. Maybe it will bring them a little relief."

Agron joined Pietros and Duro shortly afterwards, who had taken a seat under a tree in the garden in the shade. Both wore fresh clothes and Pietros seemed particularly pleased with his shoes, even if they were already worn and came from someone else. But he was obviously indifferent to this.

Duro had leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, and Pietros sat next to him and put his head on his shoulder. His eyes were closed, too, and Agron could not suppress a smile. He was almost sorry to have to wake them up.

"Duro?" he asked softly, and his brother opened his eyes as Pietros moved a piece to the side.  
"I'll leave you both alone if you want to speak!" he said, but Agron shook his head. "No, it's also something about you."  
"What is it all about?" asked Duro anxiously, when he noticed his brother's serious expression on his face. "Has something happened?"

Agron nodded. "Yes. You know Crixus brought a prisoner last night? A Captain..."  
"Yes," Duro replied, appearing to suspect what Argon was trying to do. "Is it Aurelius?"

Pietros shrugged at the mention of the name, and Duro gave the other a reassuring look. 'He can't do anything to you here. He was locked up and would probably have to pass Spartacus, Crixus and all the other gladiators, including Letitia, to get closer to us again."

"He doesn't do anything to anyone anymore," Agron said with a sinister gaze. "Crixus said we should leave it to you. But he said disgusting things and there..."

"So he's dead?" asked Pietros, and he seemed visibly relieved as Agron nodded as Duro looked at his brother with regret. 'I'd have liked to have punched him in the face at least once. At least once....but it is good that he can no longer do any damage."

Agron turned around when someone approached them. A young girl with long dark blond hair stood there. Agron recalled seeing the girl accompanied by Letitia.  
His brother and Pietros seemed to know them and rejoiced in the reunion. "Ania, nice to see you!" said Pietros.  
"Thank you for telling Letitia and Spartacus about us," Duro added, and Ania took a seat on the floor next to the two.  
"I have to thank you, Ania, too," Agron said, giving the girl his kindest smile. 

He recalled the words of his leader, according to which it had to be an anxious girl...

"I'm glad you're here and not in this prison anymore," Ania said, and she seemed really happy.  
"And that even though I'm Germane?" asked Duro with a grin, and she looked at him thoughtfully. "Well, now that you're going to mention it...".

She laughed, apparently she had made a joke while Agron stood up. 

He wanted to inquire about the progress of the freed slaves trained on the weapons.

"He wants to watch Nasir train," Duro said, and Pietros shrugged. "Why not. If he likes it... and he is very friendly..."  
"Yes, he is. Even if he is a Syrian," Duro replied thoughtfully, and Ania looked at him in amazement. "Oh, you don't like Syrians? And Gaul doesn't... but _I_ have to like Germans?"

"We are all in the same situation. In fact, it doesn't really matter where we come from. That's why sometimes there were difficulties in the Ludus, where there should have been cohesion," Pietros replied, and basically Duro had to agree with him. "Nasir welcomed us so kindly. And we cannot blame him for someone else's actions..."

"If we divide into small groups of Syrians, Gauls, Germans, Egyptians and others now, then the Romans will capture and kill us one by one," Ania said, adding, "However, no one can force me to like Alsuna. She took my comb this morning and claims it would be hers."

Not long after, Rabanus and Rhaskos arrived. Spartacus had sent the two together to recover Barca's body from the sewer, and the two former gladiators had succeeded.  
They rode into the courtyard of the villa and Spartacus met them, together with Mira. He saw that on the back of the horse they had taken with them, in addition to their own horses, lay a body rolled into a large blanket.

At least he suspected it was...

"You found Barca?" asked Spartacus, and Rabanus nodded. "Yes, we found him in the place you described to us. We were lucky that we did not meet any soldiers. But all too often we should not use these paths through the sewers any more."

  
In the evening, a pyre was lit in the courtyard of the villa. Pietros had held the torch to the wood after taking another last look at his lover's body.  
The corpse was covered with cloths, because it had been Pietro's concern that the others remember the dead gladiator brother as he once was. Many of them had experienced it at the time when he was called the Beast of Carthage, and some spoke a few words.

They remembered a strong fighter who had won many victories.

Now the flames of the stake blazed and Pietros tried to hold back his tears as Spartacus stepped by his side.

  
"He will be welcomed in the hereafter. Those who died in the arena or during our flight will wait for him. He's probably been there a long time and's watching us now." Pietros nodded quietly and tried to believe in the words of the Thracian. Spartacus was right in many respects, and he hoped that was the case this time. 

When the flames finally extinguished, Pietros withdrew a little while some of the others stood together and exchanged memories of Barca and his most successful fights. Of course, the struggle he once fought with his own father was also an issue.

Pietros did not join the others, he needed a few moments for himself, but he was nevertheless grateful that Letitia, Iras, Ania and also Duro stood together not far from him. He knew that he could go to them at any time and not be as alone as he once believed after Barca's death in the Ludus. His friends looked at him compassionately.

But there were other looks that followed him. And those looks weren't compassionate or friendly. But greedy.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to let you wait too long for the next chapter. Events familiar from the series are beginning to take their course. Agron and Nasir learned that Naevia is still alive. But while Agron first claimed to Crixus that she was dead, Nasir had a bad conscience and then told the truth. Both had reasons for their decision.

**Rome**

Lucretia looked up as her bodyguard Matay entered the room. He handed her a small scroll, which he had just received from a shabby man. Lucretia read the news and then turned to her bodyguard.  
"The letter comes from Ashur. He has sent this messenger and hopes that he will be rewarded. This is outrageous."

The latter outraged her. What did Ashur take out?

But Matay seemed to see it differently, which also outraged her a little. "I have already rewarded him with a few coins and told him where he finds a good tavern. After all, he also risked something by bringing Ashur's message to you, Domina."

She sighed and decided to let the matter rest on her own, otherwise she was satisfied with Matay's services. On the other hand, the news was not particularly encouraging. 

Apparently Glaber and Ilithyia had begun to re-establish Lucretia's house. She was sure she didn't like it and didn't fit her taste.

This particularly outraged her, and she was already afraid that she would not recognize her own house when she returned one day.   
But these weren't the only news. 

"He writes that he defeated three of Glaber's men when they wanted to throw him over the cliffs after Glaber doubted his loyalty. Apparently he was caught sifting through documents. Glaber was very surprised and apparently did not trust this victory over his three soldiers. Since then, he's been a little more concerned about the skills of gladiators and he's kept Ashur alive, even though he's threatened to keep an eye on him because he doesn't really trust him," Lucretia said thoughtfully, then smiled. "Yes, Glaber often underestimates his opponents. If he knew how some here in Rome think about him and Ilithyia... Iulia and Ione told me a lot..."

She thought back to a meeting with Ione and her friend Iulia and smiled. These relationships could prove helpful once again, and perhaps offered her some protection if she did it right.

But then she saw Matay's questioning gaze and she sighed. Of course, her bodyguard was interested in what Ashur had to report and the news that Ashur had almost been thrown over the cliffs had visibly frightened him. "Ashur was successful. Oenomaus, our former gladiatorial trainer, was captured. Ashur did. I'm afraid Ashur won't be too friendly with him. I don't know if Quintus would be right..."

She remained silent for a moment and then continued to speak. "Glaber is not too happy that I went to Rome. Ashur warns me to be careful."  
She looked at her bodyguard and he nodded. "Don't worry, dominame. I will be vigilant."

She gave him a short smile and asked a question that interested her. "Say, Matay, is there actually a woman in your life somewhere? Maybe another slave?"

Some of her hoped that he would answer this question in the short, and to her relief, even if the answer was not quite as satisfactory as hoped.  
'There's no woman in my life. But there was one. She was a slave in the house of my former dominus. We were a couple for three years, but then she died. At the birth..."

He abruptly broke off and she guessed what he wanted to say. "She died at the birth of your child together?" she asked. 

Apparently he didn't want to tell her, because he feared that this news would scare her because of her own pregnancy and impending birth.  
He was not entirely wrong with this presumption. A lot could happen at births and she had, of course, heard many stories where the birth of a child had not gone well.

"Yes, she died at birth. The child was a boy. He was born dead. She died of cot fever a few days later," Matay said, and she saw that the loss was still hurting him. "How long ago ago?" she asked.

  
"Two years," Matay replied, and she dismissed him with a hand gesture.

Almost relieved, he left the room. Apparently he was very reluctant to talk about this issue and she would certainly not raise it any more. But she regretted that he still hung on this woman with his heart....

**At the rebels**

The rebels had taken a new villa. Pietros and Duro had not participated, but had waited together with Letitia and other former house slaves. Duro had been annoyed about this, but he had to admit that it was probably too early for him.   
Nevertheless, he held a sword in his hand and at least tried to convince himself that he had stayed behind those who did not fight to protect them. He was still hoping to get back to training as soon as possible and he waited every time he met Crixus for him to make a mocking remark.

But the Gaul held back and instead, shortly after his return, patted him on the shoulder and told him that he was glad to see him again alive. There were two possible explanations for the Gaul's behaviour. Either he no longer considered Duro to be an opponent who was even worth dealing with, or at his sight he had hoped that his lover Naevia was still alive and that he would see her again. 

Pietros also hoped for the latter, and Duro also wished the young woman that she was found unharmed, but also knew that this was not very likely.

After all they knew, she had already experienced terrible things and the thought of it also made Letitia sad.

Now the former slaves had moved into the other villa and Pietros thought of Aulus, the dominus of the last villa. They had left him there, and Spartacus had ordered him to warn the Romans, and especially Glaber, to continue hunting the refugees, for they would encounter stiff resistance.

They had left Aulus enough to eat and he had told them that he was expecting to visit in the not too distant future and would most likely be found. So he wouldn't starve and thirst. The reason why they had not killed him was mainly due to the statements of his slaves. He had never used violence against them, and had also contented himself with his three favorite slaves to brush their hair. 

Pietros had asked Ania why she had run away anyway. She had given him her reasons. Above all, she seemed to suffer from very much homesickness and even now, in the midst of the rebels, she missed her parents and her siblings. Nevertheless, she gratefully allowed Letitia to mother her a little. The other two girls, Miria and Alsuna, also seemed glad to have found something like a grandmother's replacement in the old cook.

Pietros smiled when he saw the four sitting together. He didn't know if Letitia or the girls were happier to have found something like a small surrogate family. Even Alsuna and Ania hardly argued.

Pietros looked around when someone put a hand on his shoulder and he saw Menes standing behind him.   
"So alone? Where is Duro? Does he watch the fighters at training? And what about you? Don't you want to train a bit? I could teach you a lot... and by that I do not mean swordfighting..."

Pietros pushed the man's hand away and walked away, while Menes looked after him grinning. The boy would still understand what was good for him. But now the Egyptian saw his second object of desire.   
Nasir walked past him without paying attention to him. Something seemed to weigh on the Syrian. Had he argued with this grisly gladiator? He was also on the sidelines and didn't seem to be so happy. He held his cheek. Had anyone beaten him?

But what did Menes care about this gladiator? Maybe Nasir needed a little consolation? He would like to give it to him.   
Unfortunately, someone slapped him on the shoulder at that moment and Menes looked into Donar's face. "You should train a little with the others. You might need it."

Reluctantly, Menes Donar followed to the training ground. He would later look more closely at Nasir and Pietros.

In fact, something had happened between Nasir and Agron that made the Syrian fear that he had lost the gladiator's friendship. Nevertheless, he felt that he had done the right thing. He had told Crixus what he and Agron had experienced. Naevia lived, she had been taken to the mines. 

Agron had had his reasons for claiming to Crixus that the young woman was no longer alive. But Nasir had felt very uncomfortable with this lie. It was wrong. Then he saw how much Crixus suffered from the alleged death of his mistress and he had told the truth. Of course, Cirxus had become angry, and even Spartacus seemed angry about Agron's lie, and he had dealt him a blow.

For Nasir, this probably meant that his friendship with Agron had come to an end before it really began, and this depressed him greatly. Agron had wanted to protect him, his brother and others. Of course, it was safer to move towards Vesuvius as soon as possible and look for a safe hiding place. It was madness to rescue Naevia from the mines, but Cirxus seemed determined to do just that.

Sadly, Nasir sat in a secluded part of the villa's garden and he thought to himself how much he would now like to spend this time in Agron's company....  
He heard footsteps and looked up. For a moment, he hoped it was Agron who approached him. But it was Menes, the former bodyguard from the house of Aulus.

Unquestioned, he took a seat next to Nasir, who wondered what the man wanted from him. He had not yet paid any attention to him.  
But nasir didn't like anything in the man's eyes at all, and when he put his hand on his thigh and pushed himself towards him, the young Syrian knew what Menes was trying to do.

At first he remained seated motionless, but then he felt anger rising within himself. Had he been freed from his dominus to meet someone like Menes? He moved away from the man and grabbed his belt. There he carried a knife with him and at that moment he regretted not having a sword with him.  
Menes grinned and approached him and wanted to put his arm around the younger man's shoulder. 'Now it's not like that. You certainly wouldn't mind if your big German were approaching you..."

Menes shrugged when a knife was held to his throat and Nasir angrily pushed him away. "Never try again. Keep away from me!"

Nasir got up and walked away angrily as Menes stared at him. Perhaps it had been the wrong decision to approach the Syrian, even if the last word had not yet been spoken in this regard. 

But he would now try it on the other young man, Pietros. He was sure that he would not press a knife to his throat, because unlike Nasir Pietros was not a fighter...


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a new chapter. Spartacus and others have gone to the mines to save Naevia while others make their way to Mount Vesuvius. Have fun reading.  
> And thank you to Milksapphire and Goddess of the arena for your regular comments and to everyone who has given Kudos. For your part, the story is moving a little faster at the moment. I don't want to let you wait too long. I hope you continue to like the story.

Duro knew that it was actually the right decision to leave for Mount Vesuvius as soon as possible. Agron had taken on the task of leading a large group of escaped slaves there. Duro and Pietros were also among those who set out there. Moreover, Duro was sure that it was almost madness that Spartacus, along with several others, mostly Gauls, had decided to accompany Crixus to the mines. Nasir also accompanied the group to the mines, as he knew a little there. He had once accompanied his Dominus there.

'It's dangerous. But I think Agron Crixus should have told the truth," said Pietros, who rode a horse next to Duro.  
It was again the tame animal on which he had already ridden to the Villa des Aulus. His foot had largely healed by now, but he couldn't walk any longer distances with it.   
Duro looked at the others a little doubtful." I am also sorry for Naevia. But maybe she doesn't live anymore and Spartacus and the others risk her life for nothing. Nevertheless, I can also understand that it has weighed on Nasir's conscience...."

"Did you talk to Agron about that?" asked Pietros.

"Yes. He doesn't seem angry with Nasir. He even understands him and understands that he asked for something from him that he wasn't really willing to do. But he's worried. To Nasir and also to Spartacus and the others. It's almost impossible to get someone out of the mines," Duro said.  
"I was always afraid of being sent there one day," Pietros confessed, and Duro nodded approvingly. "I and Agron have also been threatened with this. But so far we have at least been spared."

They both thought it could have hit them much worse, and they wondered if and how a tender young woman like Naevia would survive the difficult time. He feared that she was no longer alive.

"Hopefully they will come back," Pietros muttered softly. "We did it..."

At the same time, Spartacus and those of his companions, who were still among the living, tried to bring themselves to safety from the Romans. They managed to free Naevia but the young woman seemed distraught and frightened.   
The brief happiness of the reunion with Crixus had been abruptly destroyed, and now the Gaul may have been dead, as were others who had left. Shortly, Spartacus remembered that Agron was not wrong with his concerns. Nevertheless, he was glad that they had succeeded in freeing Naevia.

This in turn trembled at the thought that it was Again Ashur who had destroyed her little luck with Crixus. How did he know he would meet Spartacus and others in the mines? This question was asked by the young woman while she was near Mira, the only other woman in the group.  
The men of the small group were not quite in her, even if no one had come too close to her. The only young man who did not instill this fear in her was Nasir. She had met him earlier and he had tried to help her within his means by providing her with food and a warm blanket in the villa of his Dominus.

With the other men who were still on the run with them, I was a few Gauls who were or were friends of Crixus, should he not live anymore...  
She supplanted the idea of the latter because she knew that she would finally collapse. Then Mira and Nasir, who encouraged her to continue their escape, could no longer help her either.

But her thoughts kept wandering to Crixus, who had probably died in the mines because of her, and she knew that this would forever weigh on her conscience.

Agron and his companions, meanwhile, approached Mount Vesuvius, and he decided to take a break, as some of the freed slaves made an exhausted impression.  
Silla and her newborn baby in particular desperately needed a little rest and so they looked for a suitable storage place.

Finally Pietros and Duro sat together with Ania and the other two girls from the kitchen, Alsuna and Miria, in the shade of the trees. Duro rose when Agron called for him and he seemed glad to be able to make himself useful in some way.

Pietros, meanwhile, looked at Miria and Alsuna. "So you come from Nubia and you come from Germania?" he asked, and the two girls nodded."  
"Yes, I was taken out of my homeland three years ago," Miria said, and Alsuna looked sadly to the ground.   
"It was four years ago for me. It is good that we are now free again, even though I am afraid of the Romans. I'm afraid they'll do bad things with us if they catch us again. Maybe they'll send us into the mines or kill us on the spot.'  
"Or they put us in a brothel. I'd almost be most afraid of that," Ania added, and Miria nodded. "There are certainly such scary men as this Menes. He always stares at us three so strangely. And he always looks to Nasir and you. I think he's crazy. In my home village there was also such a man. At some point they expelled him for assaulting a woman."

"Then you're afraid of him?" asked Pietros.

Apparently neither young women nor young men were safe from Menes, and Pietros was now also worried about Nasir if he returned and the girls from the kitchen.  
"I think I'm going to take part in swordfighting training," Miria said. "Then I can at least defend myself if the Romans or Menes want to do something to me! Or I learn archery, like Mira and Iras."

"I'll tell Letitia when he's wandering around near us again," added Ania, who was apparently firmly convinced that the old cook would protect her.

Pietros assumed that she would at least try, but the thought of the former bodyguard, who had done nothing to protect his former master during the gladiators' raid, had been told, filled him with discomfort.

Duro, too, had already noticed that Menes was noticeably close to her, and he had only expelled him in the morning by addressing him directly and asking if there was any problem.  
Menes had mocked him, but then distanced himself from Duro and Pietros.

"Maybe I should tell Duro that he sneaks after us and that it happens much more often than he notices," Pietros thought, but quickly rejected that idea. He was not missed by the mocking gaze that Menes had cast to his friend. Apparently he felt Duro superior and possibly did. Pietros feared that there would be a real dispute between Menes and Duro if the former gladiator thought he had to protect his friend.

And was the danger that Duro lost this fight and a possible fight and was injured again? Pietros had to and wanted to deal with the situation alone. After all, he couldn't always hide behind others and even put them in danger.

He seriously considered joining sword fighting training as well. After all, the weapons were not completely foreign to him. He had observed various forms of struggle in the Ludus, even if he had not tried himself in it. Perhaps it was time to change that.

Duro noticed Agron's commotion. His brother didn't seem to be very comfortable in his skin.  
"Something is wrong," Agron said. "I don't feel good..."

"Of course not. I don't feel good either," Duro agreed. 'It's madness and we knew that and they knew that. But you know Spartacus..."  
"Yes, I know him. In fact, his plan to break out of the Ludus was already insane. Nevertheless, we have succeeded."

He looked at Duro sadly. "At a very high price...."

Agron hesitated for a moment. Then he got up and waved at Donar. "I will search for Spartacus and the others. Take the others to Vesuvius, together with Duro, as we had planned."

Not long after, Duro looked after his brother and some of the others as they set out to search for Spartacus and the others. He knew that Agron was particularly concerned about Nasir, and he too hoped that the Syrian, who had grown so close to his brother's heart despite their disagreement scare over Crixus and Navia, would return.

Once again he cursed his old injury, which made it impossible for him to accompany his brother, and to all the evil, Menes came to his side and looked at him compassionately. "It's a pity you can't accompany them. But you're not doing so well, aren't you?" the former bodyguard asked, but Duro turned away and didn't bother to give the guy an answer.

After all, it was obvious that he did not ask out of sincere compassion or even interest. Duro was sure that it was out of ridicule.  
"Maybe you can never do it again," Menes said at the moment, and Duro drove around to him.  
'I don't think you can judge that.'  
"You won't be able to protect your friends..." Menes added, and now Duro had heard enough. He took a step toward Menes and then stopped in front of him. "Do you think I haven't noticed that you're staring at Pietro and Letitia's girl afterwards? Leave them alone! And I will gladly show you that I am still able to fight. Get a sword and we'll clarify it all out here and now."


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue with a next chapter. There is a fight between Duro and Menes.

Pietros saw Menes hurry past him with a sword in his hand, and then the former bodyguard stopped and pulled the young Egyptian to his side. "I will fight with Duro now. That was his idea. You know as well as I do that he still has problems with his wound and that I will win this fight. He will soon be lying on the ground whimimmering or unconscious. Maybe his injury gets worse and he doesn't survive it. Do you want that?"

Pietros looked at the other in horror. "You can't fight him. I will go to Donar. He is our leader at the moment and I will tell him. He will ban it. And I will talk to Spartacus and Agron when they return. Agron will kill you if you kill his brother."

Menes looked at the young man grinning. "If they come back. Perhaps Spartacus is long dead. Maybe Agron will die, too. And do you really want to run to the leaders like a little girl and complain about the evil Menes? What exactly do you want to say? That I accepted a legitimate challenge to a fight? Or that you are afraid of me like a little child?"

He spat contemptuously on the floor. "Little coward."

But then he smiled almost kindly, even if it was a false smile from which Pietros did not let himself be fooled for a moment. "I will lose the fight voluntarily. Let Duro enjoy this little triumph. As long as he doesn't try to kill me, I'm not going to do anything to him. But for that you have to meet me a little bit. Somewhere, alone in the forest. You're going to do that for a friend, right? By the way, if you go to Donar and get him to ban the fight, Duro will be angry with _you_. He will think that you do not trust him to win."

Menes turned away without paying attention to Pietros' disgusted facial expression and set out to face the former gladiator in battle.

In fact, Duro was already waiting for Menes, a little away from the others who were preparing to leave. He had left a lot of time on his return. He mockingly looked at the bodyguard.  
"Where have you been for so long? Couldn't you find your sword? You don't need it that often. You didn't even protect your dominus, just as it would have been your job. That, by the way, would have been a good solution for all of us. Because then Spartacus or one of the others might have killed you in the raid on the villa. But as I heard, you hid. Where? Under a table?"

Menes took up his sword and a shield, and laughed mockingly. "Do you want to fight with words? Your arrogance will pass you by. Actually, I didn't want to deal with you so hard, because you are still injured and I don't attack weak people. It's like attacking an old woman..."

  
Duro had heard enough and took a step toward Menes. Even before he could react, Duro dealt him a blow with the sword, which the other fought off with difficulty, but staggered backwards and landed in a puddle that was left of a short rain shower in the early morning.

Meanwhile, some of the gladiators who had not gone with Agron or Spartacus watched the fight, and some of the freed house slaves did not miss the spectacle.

Menes stood up to what earned him a little bit of recognition from the spectators, but the former bodyguard quickly noticed that most were on Duro's side. Well, this was understandable. They had known him for a long time, his surprising reappearance after his supposed death had impressed them, and the gladiators saw themselves as a brotherhood and there was no place for him, who was not a gladiator.

"Show it to him, Duro. Show him everything we have learned in The Ludus. You'll deal with that," said one of Duro's gladiator brothers.

These words made Menes angry and even more annoyed when Duro pushed him into the puddle again. But he rolled to the side and was quickly back on his feet and attacked his opponent again.

The fight again a opponent was something Duro had longed for. He wanted to prove to himself and to the others that he was still able to fight. And that he did it against a disgusting man like Menes gave him a certain satisfe fight against a reaction. 

At the same time, he realized that he wasn't ready, but he managed, at least he hoped to hide the new pain swoon.   
Unfortunately, Menes seemed to know about his injury as he carried out several attacks against his sensitive side. But Duro managed to run mene's attempts into the void. Instead, the bodyguard's attempts seemed rather clumsy and made some of the bystanders laugh.

Duro noticed that Pietros was watching the fight, too, and he also saw that his friend was far from happy about it.   
This briefly distracted him and Menes almost managed to land a blow with the sword against Duro's arm, but at the last moment he noticed the mistake he almost made by his inattention. 

Instead, he punched Menes in the face with the shield that someone had given him, and the bodyguard fell to the ground again.

He couldn't get up when Duro stood over him with his sword. "I give up," Menes said, but his gaze said, "This time. Only this time."

Duro withdrew when he heard Donar's voice. "What's going on here?"

"Menes insulted Duro and they fought. Duro won," said one of the bystanders, and Donar looked at Menes and for a moment he looked like he wanted to pat Duro on the shoulder and congratulate him on his victory.

But then he realized his responsibility as a temporary leader. "We don't have time for anything like that. We still have a long way to go."

Menes stood up with some shaky legs and his shield in his hand and rushed at Duro. He drove around to him and Menes dealt him a violent blow with his shield against his injured side.  
Duro fell to the ground and was caught by Donar at the last moment while Menes himself fell when someone jumped on his back and punched him in the neck.

Duro recognized Pietros, who was now squatting on Mene's back and was eventually pulled away by two gladiators. Menes was pulled to his feet but received a violent blow to the stomach from one of them for his unfair attack.

Menes collapsed and did not move. 

"He's still alive," said a woman who bent over to him and grabbed his neck.

Donar nodded. "Put him on a stretcher and take in. Let the healer look after him."  
Then he turned to Duro and quietly asked, "Are you well? Are you hurt? What did you think? Couldn't have it waited?"

Duro shook his head. "No, it couldn't wait... I am fine. I can ride..."

He got on his horse and rode at Pietro's side shortly afterwards. He looked a little uncertainly to the ground and Duro wanted to know the reason. "Thank you for intervening..."  
'He was unfair. But you defeated him? He didn't let you win?" asked Pietros, and the question was visibly uncomfortable for him.  
Duro shook his head and he wondered what was depressing his friend." No, he didn't let me win. He's not really a very good fighter. I've seen him at training. He probably didn't have to prove his skills at Aulus too often. But....why are you asking?"

The question seemed to be very unpleasant. 'He said he'd let you win if I was nice to him and he probably meant I was with him.'

"What did he say?" Duro interrupted the other in disbelief. 'But hopefully you didn't get involved in it, didn't you? For one thing, it would not have been necessary. I've finished with him. But above all, you must not do such a thing. Neither for me nor for anyone else! Not with a pig like Menes!"

'I didn't promise him anything. But he seems to believe it. He will be angry when he is back in power," Pietros feared in an uncertain voice, looking at Duro with relief. "But I'm glad nothing happened to you...".

Duro nodded even though he wasn't really honest with Pietros. His wound again caused him greater difficulties and the struggle had certainly not done the healing well. But it had been his decision and it didn't seem too bad.

"Stay close to me," Duro said thoughtfully. "He will not dare to approach you. And I will speak to Donar. It is not possible for someone who poses a danger to you and others to stay with us. I'm sure Spartacus doesn't want to have anyone like that among us."

Pietros nodded and added: "I was thinking about whether I should also take part in the training with weapons. I can't always hope someone will help me. And Nasir has also learned it....". I can't always hope someone will help me. And Nasir has learned it too...."

Pietros didn't really seem comfortable with these words. He was not a warrior and he did not like to inflict pain or suffering on others. But Duro also found it important that the other learned to at least defend himself.  
"Take part in the lessons. It will continue as soon as we have found a place where we can settle down for a while. I hope i can train again, too...."

Pietros wanted to answer something when Duro bent over and pressed a hand on his old wound. He covered his face in pain and Pietros looked at him in horror. "Duro, what's going on? You are hurt!"

"I am fine..." said Duro when he became dizzy and he could only keep himself on the back of his horse with difficulty while Pietros called out loud for Donar.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We move on to the next chapter. I hope you like it and I wish you a lot of fun reading.

Duro lay in the shade under a tree and Pietros sat anxiously next to him while Donar gave the injured man a disgruntled look.  
"You should have said something about your new injury right away or you shouldn't have gotten involved in the fight with this worm."  
"You would have done it in my place if he had threatened one of your friends. He also insulted me. Men have been fighting for lesser insults when we were still in the Ludus," Duro defended himself as the healer joined the injured man and the other two.

She had previously looked to Menes, although Pietros believed that Duro needed her help more urgently and deserved more. The woman got down on her knees next to Duro and looked at him admonishingly.   
"Until now, you have always avoided looking for your old wound. But now it has to be, even if you are uncomfortable. But if it calms you down, I've seen pretty much everything there are injuries. I'm not scared of a few scars or bruises.'  
'I don't mind anyone seeing a few scars. Others already have. When bathing or moving. I don't care. There are also others with much bigger scars here," Duro replied, and Pietros saw that the idea that the woman could examine his wound really frightened his friend.  
"But you don't want anyone to _touch_ your injury," he said softly, and Duro nodded. "Yes. It reminds me of... Aurelius."  
Donar snorted contemptuously. "It's a pity that Agron killed him so quickly. But either way, he no longer causes suffering..."

Donar, meanwhile, had taken a seat next to Pietro's. Duro reluctantly pushed his clothes aside and the healer began her investigation. Although she tried, this was not entirely painless, of course, but it was tolerable compared to the interrogations and beatings by Aurelius.  
"I have to press a little tighter and you tell me if you notice," she said now, and Duro would have liked to have slapped her hand away and was sure that he would have done the same with a male healer when she pressed on his wound. "Of course I notice that."

She nodded contentedly as she finished the investigation. 'It's understandable it hurts. But at least no ribs are broken and as far as I can tell no muscles are torn, although they are still weak at the spot and by hitting with the shield and the movements during the fight there will probably be quite a bruise."

She sighed. "I'll leave you some ointment. And try to cool the place. Nearby there is a small river. Wet a rag and put it on the aching spot. Especially if you are, then it will be again. And no training and no fights in the near future."

The performance seemed to frustrate Duro and the healer sighed again. "I know that men, and gladiators in particular, don't like such advice. I advised Donar to spare his arm after he injured him while searching for both of you. He looked at me as if I had threatened to lock him up somewhere for weeks."  
"I largely stuck to it," Donar replied, and the healer laughed briefly. "Yes, so much so that I had to re-sew the wound twice. So much for that..."

Donar got up. "I still have to divide the guards for the night," he said, rushing away. Apparently he was glad that he was able to escape this conversation with the healer.

Shaking her head, the woman got up to look again at Menes. "If it's a consolation to you, Duro, he's as bad as you. Your gladiatorial friends have hit him in the stomach quite violently and he will also keep a bruise. They weren't friendly to him."  
She turned to Pietros. "And you hit him in the neck quite violently...."

"I was afraid that he would strike again with his shield and kill him..." Pietros replied, looking at Duro as the healer finally left the two to see the injured Menes again.  
Pietros also rose. "I go to the river and wet the rag.

Even before Duro could disagree, Pietros had already hurried away and the injured Gladiator hoped that he would eventually be able to make up for all the things Pietros did for him.

Iras saw Chadara sitting under a tree with a bowl of stew. She seemed to be looking a little distance from the others and Iras was also looking for a quieter place.  
She wanted to rest a little and sat down near the other young woman, but did not try to disturb her.  
"You're good at archery," Chadara finally said, putting the now empty bowl next to him. "I saw you the other day at training. I don't think I could. Mira is also good."  
Iras shrugged. 'She's a lot better than me. But I try to emulate her. I think, by the way, you could learn it, too. I also once thought that I would be very stupid. In the beginning, that was certainly the case. But it's a matter of practice."

Chadara nodded and Iras looked at her inquiringly. "You're worried about Rhaskos and Nasir, aren't you?"  
"Yes. Nasir and I have been friends for a long time and we often helped each other when we were still at our Dominus. And Rhaskos...."  
She shrugged and the anxious facial expression she had at the thought of Nasir disappeared a little.  
'He wasn't a bad man. He could have given me some protection. If something happens to him, I'll be there again..."

Iras looked at the other in doubt. "Is that the only reason you care about him? I thought you had feelings for him...."

Chadara looked at Iras and her smile was mocking and bitter at the same time. "Feelings? Yes, somehow I have feelings for him. And I also hope for his return. But I'm reasonable enough to look for someone else in case that's not like that. That may be heartless. But for me it is necessary. Nasir does not share my view in this respect, by the way, but he was also lucky. One of Spartacus's closest confidants pays attention to him, even without having to fight for it. Unfortunately, I wasn't so lucky..."

Iras found this to be cold and calculating, but she did not want to form a verdict on Chadara so quickly. Certainly, there were reasons for her to do so. She may never have had a real love affair, or she had been severely disappointed.

"It's always about safety, isn't it?" asked Chadara. "You want to gain security for yourself by learning to shoot with a bow. You can protect yourself with it. Nasir also learns to fight. He will be able to find something like security and defend himself, even without Agron. But what's left for me?"

"You could look for another way. I would help you," Iras suggested, and Chadara looked at her in doubt as if she couldn't really trust the other young woman's words.

Agron, as he rushed through the forest with his companions, suspected that the attempt to rescue Naevia from the mines had not come to a good end, and he feared that he would soon come across the bodies of Spartacus and the others, but especially those of Nasir. He was afraid of that moment and tried to encourage himself a little. After all, Spartacus had already succeeded in many things that he never expected. And hadn't his brother, believed to be dead, returned to him recently? Why shouldn't Nasir, Spartacus and the others do this?

"Because the whole attempt was a single madness and there was never hope," said a small evil voice in Agron's head, but he tried to ignore it. He looked around for his companions. Some made a somewhat exhausted impression, but he didn't want to take a break. He had to find the others and hope that he found more than their dead bodies.

He remembered too clearly how he had sat in the Ludus next to his supposedly dead brother. The terrible thing, Duro's death, had turned out to be a cruel error, and his brother was with him again. But he would never forget the terrible moment when Duro supposedly died, and he still pursued him to his dreams. He never wanted to experience anything like it again, and most importantly, he did not want to hold Nasir's dead body in his arms, especially as this time it would be final. 

He knew that, in the life he led, he would have to say goodbye to dead friends again and again. Each of them, including him, could die every day. It was always hard to lose friends. But he knew that he would not bear the death of Nasir and Duro either, and with the latter it would be the second time. 

Nasir....

It was only now that he had become aware of how much the Syrian had grown close to his heart and how much his loss would hurt him.  
"When he returns, I will tell him again that I do not resent his decision to tell Crixus the truth. I will be a good friend to him. And maybe even more....I hope I will be more for him...", he thought as he accelerated his step again, followed by his companions.

Letitia took a seat next to Duro in the early morning as he sat down. He felt a little better than the day before and the old cook handed him a piece of bread that she took out of a basket. "I need to discuss something with you. It's about Pietros..."  
Worried, Duro looked at Letitia. "What about him? He slept next to me that night and then he went to help you distribute the bread. He would have to be back soon."

She nodded. "Yes, he is very diligent and helps everyone. But I'm worried about him and it has something to do with you."  
"With me? I wouldn't do anything to hurt him," Duro replied.

The woman sighed. 'I don't know how much he told you about Barca. I don't want to reveal anything he might want to keep to himself. But he suffered a lot from his death and he was very bad. Then there were the attacks by Gnaeus. It is not possible to imagine what would have become of him if Gnaues had succeeded in what he wanted to do to him and Pietro's would have had to endure this besides his grief. It was bad enough for him... it is good that Gnaeus is gone and before you say anything, I know that Pietros killed him."

She said the last words whispering and Duro looked at her inquiringly. "He wanted to keep this to himself. But it is good that he has also entrusted himself to you. He had no choice and if I had been there I would have killed Gnaeus."

Last he said with a grim undertone and Letitia sighed again. "I feared that you would say this, and by that I do not mean that I am sorry for Gnaeus. Pietros, by the way, told me only recently and he seemed really happy that I wasn't angry with him about it. He has a soft heart and is therefore more vulnerable than some. That's what I'm worried about.'

She looked at Duro admonishingly. 'He's suffered so much because of Barca`s death. And now he has befriended you very closely. I don't know what kind of friendship your friendship is. Maybe you don't know it yourself or you don't know yet. I don't care. But he's very much on you. Your friendship is good for him and he seems happier than before, despite the difficult time that lies behind you both. But if something happened to you because you're into a fight with someone like Menes, I don't know if he would.... Maybe you could have such fights that are not necessary... avoid? Pietros doesn't endure this a second time...and Agron did not either. He seemed to almost lose his mind at times when he thought you were dead. That only improved a little with Nasir."

"I don't intend to lose a fight and die and I don't want to hurt Pietros or Agron," said Duro, who now knew what Letitia wanted. She did not want Pietros in particular to have to mourn again for a close man.

The cook rose a little laboriously and took the basket with the bread in her hand. "Watch out for you. For your sake and for Pietro's sake."


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. In these chapters, the rebels will eventually move into their temple. Before that, there is a story about how Pietros came to his mark, even though he is not a gladiator. Duro had asked him about it in an earlier chapter, but Pietros didn't want to talk about it because he was uncomfortable.
> 
> As far as I know, there was somehow never a real explanation for this. Here's a version.
> 
> Have fun reading. And thank you for the comments and the Kudos. I was very happy about it and it motivates me to continue writing. I hope that all of you will be well at this time.

Sitting on the forest floor, Nasir leaned exhausted at a tree and tried to breathe calmly and not let the pain prevail. He did not even know what had been more painful, the penetration of the Roman sword into his left side or the subsequent closing wound with a hot blade. At least this had stopped the bleeding and he was sure that he would not have been alive without this drastic measure proposed by Naevia.

Naevia, who was almost as exhausted as he sat next to him while Spartacus and Mira stood a bit away from them, looking for possible pursuers. Spartacus was sure to have heard voices somewhere. He was ready to defend himself and his last remaining companions until the last moment. He had drawn his sword, and Mira stood beside him with her bow. She, too, was ready to fight.

He closed his eyes as pain and exhaustion finally gained the upper hand.

Eventually, Nasir realized that someone was approaching. Was it the Romans? Were they discovered, and would they now be like the others who had been killed first in the mines and then on the run?  
He didn't make it open to himself and felt unspeakably powerless, but he didn't hear any fighting noises. Instead, he suddenly felt soft fingers on his face and his chin was carefully lifted up. He looked into Agron's eyes and this made him smile.

He was happy to see him again, even if he didn't expect it in this place and it might be the last time he saw him....

Nasir could only remember little of what happened next, as he kept dawning or even briefly losing consciousness. Two or three times Agron or Naevia gave him something to drink, and once he noticed that he was lying on a makeshift stretcher and was being carried while Agron and Spartacus were talking to each other nearby. Apparently Spartacus reported how Nasir had received his wound and that they had met Ashur. 

"How did he know where you were and what you were up to?" asked Agron, astonished as Nasir closed his eyes and fell asleep again.

Duro was relieved when his brother and Spartacus returned. But of those who had set out to free Naevia from the mines, apart from Spartacus, only Mira, Nasir and the young woman had returned.  
He greeted Agron with a hug and looked at him inquiringly. "What about the others? With Crixus, Rhaskos, Liscus and the others?"  
'They're probably dead. Crixus was left in the mines with a few others when Ashur showed up... Spartacus can tell you more. Only the four have finally escaped."

He smiled weakly. "At least Naevia was found, but Nasir is seriously injured... I have to go straight to him. The healer is looking for him..."  
"He will certainly be better soon. I think she's a good healer and knows what she's doing," Duro said, trying to encourage his brother. He did not mention his own injury, Agron clearly had other concerns at the moment.

Agron nodded gratefully to him and then rushed away to see Nasir.

Duro, on the other hand, went to the group that had gathered around Spartacus and listened to his account. Pietros followed him and his anger at Ashur, who had already caused so much suffering, awoke again.  
"Why doesn't he finally leave us alone? What had Naevia done to him? He wanted to take revenge on Crixus. But why did he miss out on her? Why didn't he challenge him to a fair fight?"

"It wouldn't have been really fair," Duro said. 'I certainly don't want to protect Ashur for everything he's done. We have lost several good men from our brotherhood and Naevia is now free, but she must live on without Crixus. I'm sorry for them. But a fight between Ashur and Crixus might not have been really fair. I know that things like this happen in the arena, but because of Crixus, Ashur couldn't run properly. I can understand that this was bitter for him. But you're right, he should have done it somehow with Crixus and not let others out."

Duro remembered that Pietro's innocent ness was also caught between the fronts when his lover Barca died. Ashur had been indifferent to destroying the lives of innocents when he took revenge on those who had done him actual or alleged wrongdoing. And hadn't he hurt Pietros any further when he told him that Barca had left him? Pietros had to live with this doubt and this burden.

"I can forgive a lot, but some things don't," Pietros replied. "And I hope that Naevia will eventually get over her loss. But it's going to be hard for them. Very hard. Then there are all the atrocities she has endured since Lucretia sent her away. I'm angry with them, too. Sometimes I wonder if it was right to stop Crixus from killing her. But her child couldn't do anything for everything that happened. It is innocent. I hope Naevia isn't angry with me about that.'

He looked at the B on his arm. 'I don't know if you've heard the story from someone else, how I got it. I don't like to talk about it because I'm a pretty whimpering worm in it. Not a glorious gladiator who earned the mark after passing an exam..."

Duro looked at the other thoughtfully and then smiled." I don't know the story yet. I wouldn't ask anyone if you don't want to. But if you want to share the story with me, I'll be happy to hear it. But if it's too painful for you, you don't need..."  
Pietros interrupted him. 'I'll tell you, but not here. Let's go a bit into the forest before we set off. I need a little rest..."

Pietros and Duro separated from the others and finally took a seat on an overturned tree trunk while Duro held his side. His re-stressed wound healed, but still caused difficulties. Menes was doing better again, but he stayed away from him and Pietros and this was also better for the former bodyguard.

In the early morning, just before Spartacus and the others arrived, Duro had seen Donar grab Menes roughly by the arm and push him against a tree trunk. Apparently, he had urged him, not very gently, not to recreate Pietro and other members of their community.

Duro hoped That Menes would stick to it, but he would keep an eye on Pietros and intervene if the bodyguard approached him again.

Finally, Pietros took the floor. "It happened long before you and Agron came to the Ludus. Spartacus wasn't there at the time, either, but some of the others. And then came five new recruits. Two of them died quite quickly and the other three turned out to be a mis-buy. That's what Batiatus once called her when he spoke to Doctore. I listened to them when they didn't notice me. Doctore was also sure they wouldn't pass the exam, but he promised to continue training them as well as possible. Batiatus was sure that the three would not reach the end of their training, die in the exam or be sent to the mines afterwards. Their lives got even harder when Barca, Crixus and the others made fun of them. You know how they're recruits..."

"Yes, I know. Disgusting. And afterwards they call you brother. I swore revenge to some people at the time, and maybe I'll come up with something for one or the other," Duro replied, but he laughed when he noticed Pietro's worried facial expression.   
'Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything bad. But maybe one or the other little revenge. Especially Crixus I would have liked to have thrown into a puddle once, as I did with Menes the other day. However, I did not want him to die in the liberation of Naevia. And I also made friends among them. But life as a newcomer to gladiators is not easy."

Pietros nodded sadly. "I even asked Barca to leave the three alone. I was sorry. But he laughed, gave me a kiss and said I had a heart that was too soft. Such a thing is just custom among gladiators. And he enjoyed it. That was something I didn't like about him. Although I actually liked everything else about him. But when we were alone and no one listened, I sometimes told him, and he wasn't angry with me."

"That's not a reason to be angry," Duro thought, but remained silent. 

He did not want to allow himself to be judged on Barca and, above all, he did not want to say anything bad before Pietros, he had not known the dead gladiator after all. Barca may have had its good qualities. After all, he had been good to Pietros and he had loved him, but he was sure from many stories about the "Beast of Carthage" that he probably would not have had it easy with him if he had met him during training.

This might have changed later.

"And what do the three new recruits have on their arm with the sign of brotherhood?" he asked cautiously, and Pietros lowered his gaze.  
"One day, it was the day of the trial, Barca made fun of them again. He mocked why they were preparing the iron with the sign in the first place, because they would not pass the test anyway, and others mocked it. Finally, Barca said that even I would have a better chance of passing the exam and that I would earn the mark more."

Pietros shuddered a little at the memory and continued with his story. "I was alone and i was clearing a few things for Doctore when I was grabbed by the three and dragged into a corner. One of them held the incendiary iron in his hand and pressed it on my arm. I probably screamed half Ludus together and afterwards they beat me up. They said Barca would always remember them if I had the sign they didn't deserve. I'm just a whimpering coward and weakling, but he would have brought her to the idea with the fire iron with his words. They actually wanted to hurt him..."

"Cowards," Duro hissed angrily. "Because they didn't dare to approach him, they left it out to you."  
In his thoughts, he added: "It would be like I beating Naevia together to avenge me to Crixus! That would have been just as vile."

He looked at Pietros inquiringly. "And what happened then? What became of the three? And how did Batiatus react to the fact that you were now wearing the sign even though you were not one of his gladiators?"

Pietros continued to speak. "I hid in some corner, like the little coward for whom many, perhaps not even wrongly, thought me. I had insane pain on my arm and everything else hurt me. One of my ribs had broken and I could barely see anything on my left eye for a few days because it was swollen."

"I'm sorry it was so bad for you," Duro said with honest sympathy, wondering how vicious someone could actually be to vent his anger at someone like Pietros, who had previously worked for the three men at Barca.

Pietros continued. "It was really bad and at some point, the test was over and the three had fallen through as expected, Rhaskos found me in my dark corner and called for the Medicus, Doctore and Barca. Of course, everyone wanted to know what had happened and Rhaskos said it was a disgrace that I would now bear the sign of the Brotherhood. He even suggested stabbing it out with a knife, but a blow through Barca silenced him. Gnaeus was also present and he grinned at me mockingly. Barca almost got on with it, too. The Medicus, meanwhile, took care of my wounds and Batiatus got a tantrum. It didn't bother him so much that the three of them had beaten me up. But he didn't like the fact that I had the sign on my arm, which was quite inflamed. He consulted with the Medicus about how to remove it and I think he would have thought it would have been a good solution if I had lost my arm. But that didn't happen and eventually Doctore made sure that I wrapped a cloth around my arm when Batiatus saw me. Doctore must have spoken to him. He probably said that Barca's fighting ability would suffer if I felt bad. At some point, it probably didn't bother him so much. At least he didn't care if I forgot the cloth, but during the time in the kitchen I tried again to hide the mark as much as possible.

"What happened to the three recurrus who had fallen through the tests?" asked Duro, and Pietros covered his face with a bitter smile. "One died in the test , and he was even assigned a fairly light opponent to give him a chance. He was still the most capable of the three and Doctore probably saw a little potential in him. But he died. The other two beat Barca half-dead. A few of the others helped him. Then they were sent to the mines. Batiatus did not want to give up the money he received for it, otherwise he would not have been bothered if Barca had thrown them over the cliff."

Pietros smiled sadly. "No glorious story for me and I, unlike you others, have no reason to be proud of the mark."

Duro remained silent for a moment, putting an arm around Pietro's shoulders. "But you don't need to be ashamed of the story. You didn't do anything wrong."

Pietros disagreed. "I was screaming like a little kid when they burned the mark and it ignited..."  
"You can't do anything to make it ignite. I also moaned for a long time afterwards. Ask Agron. I've even got on his nerves with it. Even though we gladiators are proud of it, I still know how painful it feels," Duro said, adding more seriously, "I also think you've earned the mark in the meantime."

"Do you really think so? Or do you just want to comfort me?" asked Pietros, uncertainly, but Duro smiled kindly at him.  
"Of course you deserved it. You played a big part in the success of our escape. Without you, we would still be in prison or Glaber would have executed us in some horrible way. You kept us alive all the time by providing food and warm clothes. You were very brave all the time."

Then Duro went into a somewhat tricky terrain. "In addition, by defeating Gnaeus, you actually passed the final test....you've beaten a strong gladiator. Many others have not been able to do that in practice matches and also in the arena. I didn't have such a strong opponent in my test. You didn't beat him by sheer strength, but you were smart enough to exploit a weakness from him and react correctly at the decisive moment. Such things are also important in the arena."

Pietros nodded a little depressed. "But only we both know this and Letitia. And it's better so..."

Still, Duro's words had encouraged him a little. At least his friend did not consider him the little weakling that his three attackers had once called him.

**A few days later....**

The next time Nasir awoke, he was in a darkened room and an elderly woman, and after blinking several times, he recognized the healer standing next to him. So they made it back to the rebels?

But where were they now? In another villa? In any case, they seemed to have found a place to stay.   
The woman smiled at him kindly. "Good that you wake up again. Your friend Agron will be really happy. He often inquired about you and looked at you. It wasn't until this morning that he sat next to you for a long time."

Nasir looked at the woman inquiringly. "Where are we?"

"In an old temple. A Roman lived here as a hermit, but he himself suffered a lot from his own compatriots and avoids their presence if he can avoid it. The reception was a little unfriendly, but by now he and Spartacus have somehow come to an agreement. You will certainly get to know him soon," the woman said, adding, "And I've taken care of you over the last few days. You suffered a pretty bad wound and we were really scared for you. But you had a lot of visits while you slept."  
Unfortunately, he had not noticed too much of this and so he learned that besides Agron, Naevia had visited him in particular. She had also helped with his care. In addition, Duro and Pietros had also visited him together, and Spartacus and Mira had inquired about him several times. Some of the others had also asked about his condition, and the healer had to point out more than once that her patient needed peace above all else.

After he had taken some water and a little broth, Nasir closed his eyes and he was glad that the healer had enriched his water with a few herbs against his pain. He tried to move as little as possible to keep the pain as low as possible and he hoped that this would soon improve.

The next time he awoke, Naevia sat next to him and wiped his forehead with a cloth. Did he have a fever? His pain was unabated, but he was pleased with the presence of the young woman, who had meanwhile had the opportunity to wash the dirt out of the mines and put on clean clothes. 

Yet this great sadness still emanated from her. She worried about Crixus, didn't know what exactly had happened to him, and expected the worst. 

  
But she seemed relieved that at least Nasir was doing a little better. She gave him a little smile. "You seem to be doing better. We've already worried about you. Agron was here recently. Then Spartacus sent after him. But he will be glad when he hears that you are awake."  
She reached for a mug and poured liquid from a jug into it. "This is what I shall give you from the healer. You should drink a lot and there is something against the pain in the water."

"Thank you," Nasir said as the young woman handed him the mug. But as much as he was happy to see her, he regretted missing Agron. He hoped not to sleep over Agron's next visit.

**Now the rebels have been accommodated in the temple and will be able to stay there for a longer period of time.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is another chapter here. At the moment, I am making quite good progress with history. I wish you a lot of fun reading when Lucretia attends a party and the rebels learn what happened to Crixus and others. With the next update, it will take a few days.

**Rome**

Lucretia enjoyed spending the evening in the house of Ione's girlfriend Iulia. Iulia's husband, Marcus Atius Balbus, gave a big celebration on his birthday to which Iulia had persuaded him. This, in turn, was at the instigation of Lucretia, who had encouraged the first insecure Iulia to do so. She had wanted to celebrate on a smaller scale, but Lucretia had convinced her that a big celebration was a good opportunity to talk to Rome's elite. This was also in the interest of her husband Marcus, whose career was still in its infancy.

Many influential guests from the higher classes of society were present. Lucretia had appeared in the company of her friend Ione and their husband Magnus. The former former senator, along with several other interested guests, had retreated to another room where actors performed a play about the heroes of the Greek mythical world.

Other guests chatted animatedly while Ione and Lucretia stayed in Iulia's vicinity.  
She just greeted a blond man, who in Lucretia's opinion was quite attractive, very warmly. "Gaius, nice that you could come. Marcus will be happy."  
The man smiled. "Of course I come when my favorite sister invites me to my brother-in-law's birthday."  
Iulia nodded and pointed to Lucretia and Ione. "You already know Ione, but this is Lucretia, a dear friend of hers. She has had a lot of misfortune in recent times. Her beloved husband was killed by insurgent gladiators, and Glaber has sat down in her house. Like a tick. She doesn't get him out..."

"I heard about your misfortune with the gladiators," the man said. "But it is pleasing that Glaber and his wife spare us tonight with their presence."

He briefly turned to Ione. "How is Marcella doing?"

Ione smiled conspiratorially. "She's doing very well. I will gladly greet them from you."

The man nodded briefly to his sister and the other two women and soon after, immersed himself in a conversation with a middle-aged man. This was Crassus, an influential man and the cousin of Iulia's girlfriend Licinia, murdered by Ilithyia.

Lucretia looked again at Iulia's brother.

"So that was Gaius Iulius Caesar," Lucretia thought as Iulia made her known to other guests, but a man knew her from sight. "Senator Albinus, Ilithyia's father. It's good that he didn't hear what Caesar said about his daughter and son-in-law..." she thought mockingly.  
Iulia smiled and walked towards the senator. "Thank you for accepting the invitation. My dear Marcus will be very happy. After all, you even postponed a visit to Capua, with your daughter...."

The older senator waved off. Apparently he didn't regret not visiting his daughter too much. It was not unknown that his relationship with his son-in-law was not the best. But at least he would become a grandfather in the not too distant future. At least that's what his son-in-law had got....

Lucretia thought that perhaps it wasn't the worst decision to get along well with Ilithyia's father. Perhaps he could do something to ensure that his daughter and son-in-law finally disappeared from their house.

Even more senators were present that evening, and Ione pointed to two men standing a little off the sidelines with two bad-tempered women.   
"These are the brothers of your former city commander and their wives. They had to listen to some ridicule for their younger brother and are therefore a little displeased. But bets are already being placed on whether Glaber will be able to solve the problems with Spartacus instead... at least behind closed doors. Some are firmly convinced that he will make it soon and that in at least two months no one will talk about the gladiatorial uprising in Capua. Others disagree and have doubts."

Ione giggled but Lucretia didn't agree, as it made her sad. After all, the gladiators had killed her husband.  
Ione noticed this and she looked at the friend apologizing. "I'm sorry. It was a stupid joke."

Meanwhile, Iulia smiled and pointed her at two girls, one of them perhaps twelve or thirteen years old. A girl who was a few years younger followed her. Both looked very similar to Iulia. "My daughters. They are both called Atia. This is a tradition in my husband's family. But we call the older Atty and the younger Tiny. That's what happened at some point... but as soon as they have welcomed my brother, they will be sent to their rooms and soon to bed."

The two girls walked hand in hand to their uncle Gaius and he hugged them warmly. Apparently he liked his nieces.

Lucretia entered the garden of Iulia's villa shortly afterwards. She was happy to get a little fresh air and the advancing pregnancy also made her need a bit more rest. Still, she enjoyed the evening. She had to admit that she liked Iulia, regardless of whether or not this friendship could be useful to her again.

**Temple near Mount Vesuvius**

Nasir had to fall asleep again because when he awoke it was already dark outside and Naevia was no longer there. Instead, Agron sat next to him and supply his forehead with a damp cloth.

Nasir smiled and rejoiced that he had managed to awaken and meet Agron. The other man answered his smile. "How are you, Little Man?" he asked, and Nasir withdrew his face indignantly. Agron had called him more often, and even though he knew it was meant kindly, he was sometimes annoyed to be called that.

"Maybe small, but I kind of made it here..." he muttered, and Agron looked at him with relief. " It seems to you to be a little bit better."

"I'm better off, but I'm thirsty. Could I have a bit of water?" asked Nasir in a weak voice, and Agron handed him a mug. "Of course. The healer even said you should drink a lot. That would be important now. The Medicus in The Ludus always said something like this to the injured."

"Then I should listen to the advice of the doctors," Nasir muttered, and Agron helped him sit down a little to drink better. "As soon as you are hungry again, I will ask Letitia to prepare something for you. She has set up a makeshift kitchen here..."

Nasir nodded and shrugged as a stinging pain drove through his injured side. He leaned back and Agron spread a blanket over his legs. 'It's rained before and it's going to be cool tonight. Try to sleep a little bit."  
Nasir reached for each other's hand and pressed it briefly while Agron cut a strand of hair out of his face.

Nasir closed his eyes and thought it was reassuring to fall asleep near Agron....

Agron remained seated next to Nasir for a while until Naevia entered the room to replace him. The young woman seemed tired and exhausted, and Agron doubted that she had slept too much since her return. She cared for Crixus and her memories also brought her to sleep. "Get out," Agron said. I will watch over Nasir. If something deteriorates, I will let you know."

"What about you? You also need a little rest," Agron replied, but she shook her head. 'I don't think I'll sleep tonight. I can just as well watch over Nasir and give him a little company should he awaken."

Reluctantly, Agron rose and left the room without getting too close to Naevia. At the moment, the presence of men made her feel uncomfortable, and he respected that. Only Nasir seemed to be an exception. Agron had seen how caring she was with Nasir and he knew he was leaving him in good hands.

As Agron left the room, he looked into a side room and saw his brother Duro, who was pulling a tunic over his head. Apparently the healer had examined his wound and this reminded him of what Donar had told him just before he went to Nasir.  
"Duro, what does your injury do?" he asked, and the healer, who had bent over for something and had not noticed for it at first, rose. "It heals and improves. But still rest is appropriate..."

Duro looked at the woman unhappy about this recommendation to be spared and Agron shook his head.   
" _What_ injury heals? Your old wound or the new one you drew in your fight against Menes?"  
"So Donar told you?" asked Duro, and Agron looked at the younger ones a little reproachfully as they left the room together. "Why don't you tell me about it? Do you think I don't care if my brother is hurt by a rat like Menes?"

Agron didn't really like the former bodyguard, but the man, in his opinion, had something sly about him.

Duro apparently wanted to reassure his brother. "I'm fine. You have heard what the healer said. The wound heals and I didn't want to worry you about Nasir in addition to your concern. Unlike me, he's really bad...."  
Agron grabbed his brother's arm. "But you should have told me. I had to learn from Donar."

But then he looked at his brother with pride. "I heard you won the fight and fought well. Very good. But I didn't expect anything else." Then Agron's face darkened.   
"However, after your victory, he attacked you sneakyly. He better not run over me...."

  
"I don't," Duro muttered, adding, "We should keep an eye on him. I don't trust him. I'm worried that at some point he'll fall over someone. It can affect anyone, either one of the women or one of the young men, someone like Pietros. Nasir has already stared afterwards and said disgusting things about Pietros. I'm worried about that.'

Agron froze and his dislike of Menes continued to grow. So the guy not only hurt his brother in the back, but he was also possibly a threat to Nasir, whom he had so much in his heart and for Pietros, his brother's best friend.

He would have preferred to go straight to Menes to speak to him, if necessary with the help of his fists or his sword, but at that moment he saw Spartacus approaching the brothers.   
"Agron, Duro, good that I meet you here. There is news from our host Lucius. He learned about Crixus and a few others. Apparently they are still alive and have been captured. They are to be executed in the arena."

"Who are the others?" asked Agron, and even though he and Crixus were not close friends, he was glad that the Gaul was still alive. He also thought of Naevia.  
"Besides him, Acer and Rhaskos are also to be executed. And Oenomaus. He was also captured," Spartacus replied before adding. "But Ashur is also to be killed with the others. I don't know why. He will have fallen out of favor at Glaber. But come with me and hear Lucius, he can tell us more about it."

"What are you going to do?" asked Duro. "I assume that you will do something and not let Crixus and the others die....?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some other fates change:  
> Senator Albinus did not visit his daughter in Capua because he was prevented by the invitation to the birthday of Caesar's brother-in-law and Iulia (who was encouraged by Lucretia to let the celebration take place). Consequently, there will be no talks to dissolve her marriage to Glaber, nor will he be present at the execution of Crixus and the others in the arena. Glaber will keep his father-in-law for a while. Whether he is pleased about this, of course, another question. Ashur, without Lucretia in Capua, is also in a rather unpleasant situation. Without them, some things will be different in Capua.
> 
> Iulia's daughters were both called Atia. I could imagine that the Romans gave their children affectionate nicknames, especially when they were identical in name.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a new chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading. There are a few small changes or major changes for those concerned. The celebration at which Ilithyia talked about her possible divorce and where Acer was tortured to death by the guests did not take place, even if the celebration was actually planned. But it did not take place, as Glaber mourned for his friend Marcus and at the same time was upset about Ilithyia, because she cast an eye on Varinius. Good for Acer for the first time. But instead, he now threatens execution in the arena, just like the others.

Crixus looked up as a woman, he recognized Ilithyia, stepped on his cell and mocked him and the other prisoners.  
"Be glad that Lucretia is not here but is in Rome instead. I don't think she would be too happy to see you.'  
Acer, who was sitting next to Crixus, wanted to reciprocate, but a glance from Rhaskos silenced him. It was better not to challenge the woman. Rhaskos had recognized this, even though there was also an insult on his tongue.

Ilithyia sighed exaggeratedly. "Actually, we wanted to have a little celebration. But, unfortunately, it fails. My husband is too sad about the death of his good friend Marcus."

She looked at another cell where Ashur was sitting, separated from the others. He had very disappointed her husband, because he had not succeeded in capturing Spartacus, and Glaber suspected that Ashur was not really sincere in the information about Marcus's death. Of course, she did not tell the prisoners that the failure of the celebration was also because her husband was angry with her, because he believed she had too friendly contact with Publius Varinius. He had a polite apology for the failure of the festival to the already invited guests, with the promise to make up for it on occasion.

She saw that the Syrian's face remained untouched when Marcus' name was mentioned. Apparently Ashur had a very good grip on himself. But wasn't there something like fear in his eyes?Maybe she would find out. However, she turned again to the other prisoners, who stared at her furiously.

Somehow it was exciting to know that these men would most likely tear she to pieces like wild animals if she went to them in the cell now. It was good that they were separated from her by rods and chains.

Apparently, it seemed to give Ilithyia particular pleasure to mock Crixus. The other prisoners were not so interested. She knew how the prisoner and her enemy Lucretia stood together.  
"Maybe you're interested that everyone is watching Lucretia's pregnancy now. The child grows and thrives and he will be born healthy and strong, unless something else comes in between..." she said with a smile.

She laughed as she looked into the angry face of the Gaul. She seemed to be aware that it was bubbling inside him. "I'm curious if it's going to be a girl or a boy and who it looks similar...."

"Ilithyia, leave this place. A woman of your stand should not be here," she heard an angry voice, and the woman, like the prisoners, looked in the direction of Glaber, who also entered the area of Ludus where the prisoners were housed.

He approached his wife and said quietly, "Enough is enough, Ilithyia. This is the wrong time to make mocking remarks. The prisoners are not dead yet, and they are still able to tell things they shouldn't be talking about. You should be aware of this."  
"Maybe we should cut their tongue outs," Ilithyia suggested, and her gaze fell on Acer while Glaber actually seemed to be thinking about this proposal, but then thought of it better.  
"No, they will die in the arena and people don't love it when a good gladiator like Gannicus competes against half-dead prisoners who can only crawl. They want to see their hero fighting a dangerous opponent, not a bunch of misery with which everyone has only pity."

Ilithyia apparently saw this as she turned away, but said: "It's a pity that we had to cancel our celebration last night. I was looking forward to the guests and would have liked to have shown them the prisoners."

Then she sighed. "But not even my father had time to come..."

Glaber snorted contemptuously, but did not answer when he, before his wife, left the Ludus.

Ilithyia's gaze, on the other hand, fell on Ashur and she smiled coldly. She had never liked the Syrian and, above all, never trusted him, and she was sure that he did not like her either. So she was glad that her husband had followed her urge to execute him with the others. This had not been too difficult, given the death of Marcus. She was glad that Gaius approached her on this matter, after all, she had already played seriously with the idea of leaving him.

But for this she needed the support of her father and he had unfortunately cancelled the visit to Capua. A more important invitation had come to him in between and with the decision to go there he had offended her very much.  
On the other hand, she could understand her father very well. She, too, did not feel comfortable in Capua and missed the far more exciting life in Rome.

When the Praetor and his wife had left the prisoners, Crixus and Ashur cast angry glances out of their respective cells, while Oenomaus remained silent and hung on to his own thoughts. Rhaskos and Acer, on the other hand, spoke softly with each other, and the latter seemed happy that Ilithyia had not yet made up for her threat to have his tongue cut out.

Crixus was also happy about it, because he, too, did not want to see one of his brothers being tortured. Of course, this did not be the case for Ashur, to whom he himself had gladly done all sorts of atrocities.  
"Naevia is free. You didn't manage to destroy her," he hissed at the other prisoner as the guard walked away to talk to his comrade instead. 

Eventually, the prisoners sat in their cells and could not free themselves, so they indulged themselves, at least if Glaber did not notice, a little idleness.

"Free? She will always remember me!" Ashur replied with a nasty smile, which Crixus answered with a loud curse in his mother tongue.

"Silence!" one of the guards asked the prisoners. "Otherwise we'll stuff your mouth and it won't be pleasant."

When the guards had moved away again in order to be able to talk to each other undisturbed, the dispute among the prisoners continued. "Actually, the cursed Romans over there are even right. I shouldn't risk punches by addressing words to a man who betrayed his own brothers," Crixus said.  
Rhaskos and Acer nodded in agreement and even received approval from Oenomaus, who also took part in the conversation. 'He also killed Barca, or at least was instrumental in it.'  
Ashur, on the other hand, ignored the other three prisoners and turned to Cirxus. "You're talking about brothers? Did you think about it when you crippled my leg? Did you behave like a brother? And as for you others...."

"I said you should be quiet! Otherwise I will ask the Praetor to cut out your tongues!" one of the two guards challenged the captives, and he struck the grids of the cells with his sword. "Silence now!"

The rebels around Spartacus prepared to leave for Capua. They did not want to stand idly by and that Crixus, Acer, Rhaskos and Oenomaus were executed. It was not yet clear how they would deal with Ashur if they met him. Above all, they hoped that he would not stand in their way again. Spartacus knew that most would know no mercy to him.

"They were to kill him," Naevia said softly, addressing Pietros, who was standing next to her.

Pietros, on the other hand, was relieved that Duro would not accompany the group, but would stay in the temple. Duro wasn't happy about it, but saw that physically he wasn't able to help. Instead, he had planned to explain to Pietros a few basic features of swordfighting, even if he hasn't been able to train himself yet. 

Duro hugged his brother to say goodbye and then went to Pietros and Naevia. "They're going to make it," he tried to cheerful himself and Naevia a little while Pietros pushed him. "Nasir is doing better."

In fact, Nasir, who was still wearing a bandage, joined the others and spoke to them. Apparently he wanted to accompany her, and Duro saw Spartacus shaking his head in the deny. Then Nasir and Agron spoke to each other, and Duro saw his brother giving the Syrian a fleeting kiss on the lips. The two then changed their eyes and Nasir smiled tentatively as Agron left with the others.

When Nasir looked in his direction, Duro looked away. He didn't want to embarrass the young man, after all, his friendship with Agron seemed to develop into something else, far more familiar, and this was something very personal.

Pietros smiled, he too had seen the kiss between Agron and Nasir, and his gaze seemed to say, "That was time."

Nasir sat on the steps of the entrance to the temple after Agron left with the others. Once again, Spartacus had a risky plan, and Nasir worried about success. Even though they had managed to free Naevia, this had only been possible at a high price.

On the other hand, Nasir understood that Spartacus and the others wanted to prevent this price from getting even higher.   
It was right to help the prisoners and, if possible, to protect them from their execution in the arena. Nasir would have liked to have accompanied the group, but Spartacus had refused.   
Of course, Nasir was aware that at the moment he was not yet able to fight again. It is likely that before he left the temple, he would collapse and in no way make the journey to Capua. However, this did not change his regret, and he saw Duro, who was sitting next to him with Pietros, that he felt the same way. 

"This time I go and you stay," Agron had said to him, giving him a kiss. 

With this the Germane had surprised him and at the same time Nasir had enjoyed this moment and he admitted that he had longed for it. He didn't know how their relationship would develop. But he hoped he would still have the opportunity to find out.

"They're coming back," Duro said, and Nasir turned his attention to the man's brother, around whom his thoughts revolved. "I know..." he said, hoping they were both right.

A little later, Nasir lay down on his bed in the healer's room. His wound still caused him pain, and the woman had asked him to do so when she saw him sitting pale on the steps of the stairs.   
Naevia provided him with company while Duro went with Pietros to the provisionally furnished training ground of the temple complex. Nasir also welcomed the fact that Pietros wanted to learn to defend himself. It could one day be as useful to him as it would be to Nasir himself.

Naevia handed him a cup of water. Once again there were analgesic herbs in it and he looked at them inquiringly. "Hopefully it won't be so long before I can train again..."  


She sighed. She apparently knew herself with impatient fighters, and he suspected that she was thinking of Crixus.

Nasir closed his eyes and finally, in his thoughts at Agron. Naevia sat quietly next to him and drove around as someone approached.

She saw a man she had never seen in the hospital area standing in the entrance and he stared at Nasir first and then at her and she felt like she was being patterned from top to bottom. This was very unpleasant for her and it scared her. Nevertheless, she took her courage and she did not want to show her fear.

"What do you want here?" she hissed at him, and he shrugged. "Nothing. I just wanted to ask how Nasir is doing. He's a friend of mine..."  
'He's doing well. And now go. He needs rest," Naevia told the man, and he turned away and left.   
She was relieved when he was gone and tried to remember the name and she doubted that it was a friend of Nasir's. 

In any case, he had not been one of those who had inquired about him in the last few days.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading as the story celebrates a round chapter birthday, the 40th.

**Rebel camp**

Pietros held a sword in his hand and it felt strange. Of course, it wasn't the first weapon he touched, it was just a wooden exercise sword. He had often removed these training weapons in the Ludus, but never elaborated on them. Despite his work and his life under gladiators, the idea of fighting had remained alien to him.

Moreover, his work there had not given him too much time. There was always something to do. He had also felt safe since Barca took him under his care and became his lover.

Barca had always assured him that he would protect him and he had done so. It was only when the three recruits attacked him completely unexpectedly that Barca failed, but the two who were left had paid bitterly for it.

Afterwards he had taken care of Pietros lovingly, although he accused him of bullying the men so much and that he had to pay the price. It had been the only time there had been a brief rift between them and Pietros had been very bad at the time due to his injuries. He had feared losing his forearm due to the inflammation caused by the fire injury. Barca had even promised to hold back a little in the future from new recruits. He would probably have promised his injured young lover everything at that moment.

"If I were a gladiator like you, it wouldn't have happened," Pietros had said to Barca at the time, but he had pressed him on and then took his face into his hands. "If you were a gladiator, I would have much more reason to worry about you…"

In fact, Barca had watched their loved ones and close friends die in the arena. He knew what he was talking about. At least there was no danger of Pietros being killed in battle. From then on Barca had taken even better care of Pietros and in fact he had been safe under his care and had felt that way. Until Barca's death, nothing had happened to him.

It was only after that that Gnaeus dared to approach him.

And now he stood on the training ground, with a sword in his hand, and wanted to learn how to use it. The situation had changed since the gladiatorial uspiring in the Ludus. Now there was a real danger that Pietros too got into a fight and he knew that he had to protect himself and could not rely on anyone else to do it. But he, too, wanted to be able to help not only himself, but his new friends, who he had found since Barca's death, should there be an attack by the Romans.

There were also people like Menes who he wanted to keep away from himself.

"Do I keep the sword right?" he asked Duro, who had taken a seat in the shade on the edge of the practice field.

Duro nodded, in his opinion Pietros was quite skilful." Yes, but above all it has to feel right. Each hand is different. One has stronger fingers than the other and hands are also different in width. But you basically keep it right. Put your hand around and try to get used to it. See for yourself how it is best in hand."

"It's unusual," Pietros confessed. "You're right, I really have to get used to it."

Duro nodded and added with a laugh. "But you will only have time to do so if Chadara does not accidentally hit you with an arrow."

In fact, Pietros and Duro were not the only ones who stayed at the training ground despite the early hour. At some distance, Iras had begun to introduce Chadara into the art of archery."I can't," Chadara lamented, and Iras laughed. "Of course not. You've never done it before. That's why we practice it."

"I make a mockery of myself," Chadara contradicted when she noticed Duro and Pietros. "They're going to make fun of me." "We won't," Pietros promised. "I'm just starting training."

Iras nodded to Pietros and Duro. "We're going to go there in the back. Not that one of you is running in front of an arrow and being hit."

Duro couldn't suppress a grin as Chadara and Iras walked away. "She was a slave with Nasir at the same dominus. And now she has teamed up with Rhaskos..."

"Maybe she wants to distract herself because she's worried about him," Pietros suspected, and Duro could imagine it as well. "Yes, it can be. I am also concerned about Agron. I would have liked to have gone along." "Maybe next time," Pietros tried to cheer up his friend, but he shook his head. 'I don't think so much anymore. But that is not so important now. It is much more important that we teach you how to use the sword."

Pietros nodded and took out with the sword. "Do I do it right?"

**Rom**

Lucretia enjoyed the morning in her garden. She had invited Marcella to visit and the divorced wife of the former city commander of Capua had gladly accepted the invitation.

Although Marcella was not in a position that could bring Lucretia any advantage, she liked the young woman and it was funny to spend some time with her. In addition, she was sometimes tired of entering into relationships and friendships only on social terms.

"If I wanted to, I would have done more to ilithyia," she thought, as Damaris placed a plate of cut apricots in front of the two women on a small table in the garden.

Lucretia smiled. "I've had a new chef for a few days now. An old man who previously worked in a good villa area with a wealthy judge. He prepares very good meals."

Marcella laughed. "A slave trader once wanted to sell my parents a cook who had previously cooked in a military camp. Of course, it was a hostile military camp. He was captured when our army won."

"Oh no, he probably would have prepared a lot, but everything would have tasted like a soldier's shoe," Lucretia replied, shaking. "These military chefs are used to preparing large quantities, but the taste doesn't matter. She grabbed her belly as the child kicked her in the ribs with force. "I think the little one also finds the idea frightening."

Marcella smiled. "At the time of pregnancy, the children move very often. It was no different with my Drusilla."

Drusilla, Marcella's young daughter, sat on a blanket on the grass and plucked at some blades of grass. She could already walk a little, but this was probably too tedious for her at the moment, because she yawned and seemed to be about to roll on the ceiling and sleep.

"She reminds me of somebody. She doesn't have much resemblance to Marcella, but she certainly isn't. Nor does she look like him. But who does she remind me of?" thought Lucretia, but did not express these thoughts, as she did not want to embarrass her new friend.

The little one had blond hair, which would probably darken a little more over the years and her facial features appeared amazingly familiar to her. But she couldn't assign it. She remembered that Caesar had sent greetings to Marcella. But after him the little one did not come either and Lucretia excluded Caesar as a father, at least when it came to the similarity.

"I'm still coming up," she thought, bowing to caress the little one over her head. Drusilla turned around and laughed at her, and at one point Lucretia had to think of someone else who had also had such a laugh.

"Gannicus. He laughed the same. Drusilla looks similar to him! Gaia and others were so impressed with him...", she thought, but how should Marcella Gannicus know?

It was a pity that their friendship was not yet so advanced that she could ask for it.

**Capua, Ludus**

The mood between Crixus and Ashur had not improved and it was good that they had not been locked up in the same cell. The fellow prisoners of the Gaul shared his dislike of their former brother, who had carved himself out of mark of the Brotherhood to show his loyalty to Glaber, but they did not want to be punished for the dispute between the two.

After all, they would soon have to face Gannicus in the arena, and not just him. They would have to compete against good fighters in the worst conditions and basically had virtually no chance at all. Nevertheless, they wanted to sell themselves and their lives as expensively as possible.

They would give nothing to their opponents and end their lives as honorably as possible. They were gladiators, not ordinary criminals, and they would prove this to the yelling audience and, above all, to Glaber.

But they could only fight with full force if they were not beaten up by the guards beforehand.

"I hope I live long enough to see you lose your life," Ashur said, addressing Crixus, who reciprocated that hostility. "Maybe I'll see your end. Because of you, I almost wronged another Syrian. But Nasir, unlike you, has done something good. It is thanks to him that Naevia is free again..."

"Nasir?" asked Ashur, but Crixus did not come to answer, as the guards again urged the prisoners to remain silent.

Ashur, on the other hand, thought his part. It was not the first time he heard the name Nasir. Matay had once spoken of a younger brother with that name. Hadn't there been a young man a little smaller than most of the men who had freed Naevia? This was also true of Matay.

Lucretia's bodyguards and his brother had been separated years ago after becoming slaves, and since then Matay had never heard of Nasir. After the death of his wife and child, this was the second great sorrow in Matay's life.

Matay had told Ashur these stories of his life when they sat together one evening with a jug of wine that Lucretia had allowed them to enjoy.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Surely there wasn't just one man with that name in the world. And Ashur didn't use that knowledge at that moment. He couldn't even tell Matay about it....


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. The rebels are waiting for the return of the others. Who survived the impending execution in the arena and the ensuing fire there? And what about Ashur? I wish you a lot of fun reading.

**Rebel camp**

Nasir handed Naevia his empty plate after eating the soup Letitia had prepared for him.  
"I can get rid of it myself," he said, but the young woman shook her head. "You shall spare yourself. There is no reason to rush anything. It's amazing anyway that you can get up again. The healer doesn't like it at all."  
"I feel useless," Nasir disagreed, but Naevia did not allow this to apply either, even though she knew Nasir would probably be too excited to sleep a little more.

Nasir suspected that Naevia had a similar experience. Surely she wouldn't find peace until she could reunite Crixus. The possibility that things would turn out differently and that Spartacus and the others could return with the news of his death certainly tried to displace them.  
Nasir thought of Agron. He, too, was in danger. So much could have happened in the attempt to free the sentenced to death. Agron could be seriously injured or even killed. The thought hurt. He would have preferred to sit outside on the steps of the temple and wait for the return of the group around Spartacus.

Naevia sighed and looked sadly into the void. Nasir knew she was blaming Crixu's fate. He had contradicted her. It had been the Gaul's decision to look for her and go to the mines. He had asked her if she had done the same, and she had to agree to that.  
She probably regretted that she had not accompanied Spartacus and the others to Capua. But her time in the mines had physically weakened her, and besides, she was not a warrior. Like Mira, she couldn't handle a gun. She had already said that she wanted to change this as soon as possible.

"Soon we will train together, Naevia. Together with Pietros. The three of us still become dangerous warriors who teach the Romans to fear," he tried to comfort the young woman, smiling weakly.  
"I think Pietros just wants to fight to defend himself and those who mean something to him. He doesn't want to teach anyone to fear. That's not his way.'

Both looked up as Chadara entered the room. Naevia rose. "I will ask the healer if I can help her somewhere."   
She left the room and Chadara sat next to Nasir, who was also sitting on his bed and making arrangements to get up.  
"Stay calm. I wanted to look after you and know how you are doing. The last time I was here, you slept and your gladiator was sitting next to you," Chadara said, adding, "You've really been looking for an influential protector."

  
Nasir disagreed." I don't like him because he has influence at Spartacus. I would have the same feelings if he were a simple house slave who has never spoken a word to Spartacus."

She looked at him almost deplorify. "Feelings? Don't make yourself unhappy, Nasir. Something like that will hurt you sooner or later...."

But he shook his head. "But is your way the better one? Relationships only according to their usefulness? Without feelings? That's not my way..."

  
**Near Capua**

  
The flames of the burning arena could already be seen from afar as Spartacus, followed by the others, gradually leaving Capua behind. It had naned the arena and carried out the plan. But in the end they succeeded, even if they had not escaped unscathed.

  
Oenomaus was seriously injured and he could not say whether her former teacher would be alive. With minor injuries, Gannicus struggled, accompanying her after he had been supposed to kill the convicts. Spartacus wasn't really comfortable with the thought, but Gannicus seemed to be very concerned about the injured Oenomaus.

  
Rhaskos and Acer were also worn on stretchers. The former in particular had suffered some deep cuts. His opponent, who was supposed to be his executioner, almost cut his throat. Mira had prevented this with an arrow, while Acer had been hit on the shoulder by a wooden beam falling during the fire. Spartacus feared that bones had been broken, but the full extent of the damage would probably only be determined by the healer. They had bandaged his arm to relieve the injured shoulder. They couldn't do more for the injured person at the moment.

  
Crixus had also suffered some minor injuries, but he was able to walk and would probably recover quite quickly. He was also held up by the thought of a reunion with Naevia.

Almost all of the liberators and the liberators had also suffered minor burn injuries, but this could not be avoided. There had been many victims among the spectators who wanted to have fun watching the executions. The same was true of the Roman guards and the enemy gladiators who were to carry out the executions.

  
Ashur, too, had been buried by the falling grandstand, but no one had bothered to look for him. He was probably dead. 

Spartacus had thrown a spear at Glaber, but narrowly missed it and instead hit the man standing next to him. The Praetor and his wife, who was obviously pregnant, had escaped. At the sight of the pregnant Ilithyia, unpleasant memories had risen in Spartacus. Was it possible that it was his child? It certainly could not be ruled out if he counted back the time he had spent with her until that night. However, he did not know how far her pregnancy had progressed. Still, the thought of him gnawed.

Spartacus thought of Sura. With her he would have liked to have had children and she also wanted some...

But he had no time to think about it. They had to take the injured, especially Oenomaus, to the temple as soon as possible in order to take care of them. Soon they would reach the place where they had left their horses behind. This would allow them to move faster.

  
**Near the arena in ruins...**

Glaber still couldn't really believe what was seen. Especially the angry remarks of Publius Varinius still resounded in his ear. Spartacus had destroyed the arena and, as it looked, saved all those sentenced to death.

Glaber cursed quietly. Why hadn't he killed Spartacus a long time ago? But for this defeat he inflicted on him today, this self-proclaimed rebel leader would pay with his life and suffer a terrible death. Glaber knew that this incident would seriously damage his reputation. 

Even Ashur was untraceable. He would almost have been hit by a spear himself, and there were the glances, that his wife Varinius had cast.  
But she had to bury her hopes on him well or badly, because on the arm of the other man hung this young thing, Seppia. 

Apparently he had visited her on the night when the celebration was supposed to have taken place in the former house of Batiatus, and had fun in other ways. She said an engagement was imminent.

Seppia had thrown bright glances at Varinius all the time, which he even briefly reciprocated. When the fire broke out, he had made sure that the young woman was brought to safety as quickly as possible. He had shown no interest in Ilithyia.

Ilithyia seemed disappointed. Apparently she had any hopes for the man. But this had now been settled. He showed no interest in her anymore. And he, Gaius Claudius Glaber, would have to have a serious conversation with her afterwards. 

He then grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up. "Let's leave this place. This arena is just a ruin and it will take a lot of repair work to repair it. Provided that this happens at all. And where is this Gannicus? Did he die? One of my men thinks He's Still Seen him.'

"Gaius, let me go, you hurt me," Ilithyia said, and he actually let her go, but looked at her mockingly and furiously at the same time. "You wanted to leave me and join this Varinius, what? So did you really want your father to visit you? Did you want to talk to him about it? Do you think he would have helped you in this matter?"

She shrugged and looked to the ground. Apparently he had looked through them carefully. He stepped up to her and put a hand on her stomach. "And what would have happened to our child? Do you think he would have recognized it as his? Or would he have expected you to end the pregnancy?"

"I... Gaius....," Ilithyia stammered, and his gaze seemed to scare her as she took a step back.  
"You will not leave our temporary home. And woe betide the child. You'd be sorry!" he said, reaching again for her arm and pulling her behind her. "We're going home now. And you will remain my wife! Your Varinius seems to be interested in Seppia....by the way a pretty girl....and above all not already forgiven and pregnant with the child of another man!"

**In the destroyed arena**

Ashur pushed away some wooden boards that lay on him and he rolled to the side. He couldn't really believe he was still alive. He tried to sit down and almost immediately regretted it. His ribs were aching and there was a wound to his head. He also suffered a burn to his right arm. 

He was in pain and had to find a way to remove the chains from his wrists. He saw that not far from him was one of the guards who had guarded him. He should have been next against one or more opponents...

But this had not happened any more, because quite obviously Spartacus had decided to free Crixus and the others. Of course, no one had wasted a thought on him. But he had nabed from his former brothers.

Ashur crawled with difficulty to the dead guard and, to his relief, found the keychain with which he could free himself from his chains. This was quickly done and he kept looking around. He heard quiet shouts and cries. A few soldiers and citizens of Capua wandered through the ruins looking for survivors.

Not far from Ashur lay the body of a simple Roman man dressed in a simple tunic. Ashur crawled to the dead man and took off his clothes with difficulty. Then he rolled to the side of the dead man and placed a few charred wooden boards over him. 

He then put on the tunic and hoped that the three helpful older women who rushed towards him would now consider him an injured city dweller and help him.

In fact, the women helped him get up and one handed him a bottle of water. "Drink that. You are injured and need water. What was your name?" asked the elderly woman, who had apparently decided to help the injured with her companions.  
"My name is Anthony..." he said, and she nodded kindly. " We will take you away from this terrible place. Where you can rest a little. We set up a tent outside for the injured....a Medicus is there..."

Unresisted, Ashur let the women lead him away and knew full well that they probably wouldn't have helped him if they had recognized him as one of the convicts. He also knew he would not be able to stay in Capua. He would rest a little and have his wounds treated. Then he would set off.

His goal was Rome.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter, albeit a little shorter. After the arena is burned down, Spartacus and the others return to the temple. I wish you all a lot of fun reading.

Duro couldn't find sleep that night. So he got up quietly so as not to wake the Pietros sleeping next to him. They did not sleep alone in the room, so he dared to leave Pietros behind.  
He didn't like to do this, because he feared eventually finding Menes next to his sleeping friend, while he had his hands wandered somewhere where they had nothing to look for. 

But the Egyptian, at least for the moment, was calm and had not ventured near Pietros or him. 

Perhaps this was because he was no longer the only one to keep an eye on the former bodyguard and make sure he didn't get into debt. Perhaps Menes had realized in the meantime that it was better for him and that his own well-being depended on not being unpleasantly noticed. Nevertheless, Duro knew that he did not trust this man and he would remain suspicious. He himself was not afraid of Menes, but he feared for the safety of Pietros.

But with several gladiators sleeping in the same room, Menes would surely think carefully about approaching the sleeping young man.

Duro left the temple and sat outside on the steps. He looked up to the sky, which was littered with stars. Somewhere nearby, crickets chirped on this warm summer night. He remembered a night out in Germania.

Shortly before he, Agron and other family members had moved into the fight against the Romans, he had sat at the edge of the forest with Ruda, the daughter of the village blacksmith, and they had looked into the stars. 

He smiled at the memory and wondered if Ruda was married in the meantime. He reckoned. She had been very pretty and fun-loving. He had no doubt that soon after he and Agron did not return, the young men of the village had begun to court them.

This thought had sometimes given him a stab, especially in the first period, but the more time passed, the more his memories of Ruda faded, even though he knew that he would never completely forget them.

Duro didn't know where their relationship had gotten to. His mother would have been happy about Ruda as daughter-in-law. She had already talked about a possible engagement party but Duro and Ruda were both quite young and everything would have had a little time....

He looked up as steps approached and Nasir sat next to him on the stairs. "Can't you sleep?" the young Syrian asked, and Duro nodded. 'I'm worried about Agron. You probably too...."  
"Yes. I wonder if they were successful. It would be horrible for Naevia if they couldn't help Crixus and would come back with the news of his death," Nasir said.  
"I wish them success. And I hope they can save everyone. Spartacus seems to be creating really impossible things where others would fail," Duro said thoughtfully.

He clung to the hope that this time it would be the same and that the convicts, Spartacus and especially his brother would come back alive and unharmed. He didn't know how he would cope if Agron didn't return. Nasir seemed to share these thoughts, so they sat silently next to each other for a while. 

Duro thought they had some things in common. They both worried about the same person and both had not been able to accompany him because of a wound. 

Both cursed her in silence and also in the sounds of this circumstance.

"The healer said that I shouldn't be training the next time," Nasir said to Duro after a while, and he could well understand how the young Syrian felt. 'I'm not allowed to do it yet. But at least I could explain a few things to Pietros with the sword. He's doing really well.'

Nasir nodded and grabbed his side. Worried, Duro looked at him and said what he himself did not like to hear. "Don't you want to go in and lie down?"  
"I could ask you the same thing," Nasir replied, and both couldn't suppress a smile as one hand lay on both shoulders.

"You should both go back in," they heard Naevia say, and she pulled her hands back. "Or I will stay with you and wait with you for news about Crixus and the others."

Eventually, they sat on the stairs for the third time as the night passed far too slowly.

Tired but still happy with the success of her rescue mission, Agron entered the forecourt of the temple in the early hours of the morning. They had to take a rest several times in order to give the injured water and everyone a little rest.

Nevertheless, they had, of course, made the journey as quickly as possible, because only the help of the healer and the safety of the temple would really help the injured. In addition, almost every one of them had friends or loved ones who wanted to see them again and who they knew were waiting for news.

In fact, the arrivals were greeted with joy.

Agron smiled as Duro rushed towards him and hugged him before he crossed the gate. "We have been waiting for you. Nasir will be happy to see you," Duro said, as Oenomaus was carried past him and his brother on a stretcher.

The former gladiatorial coach appeared to be seriously injured and his eyes were closed. Duro wondered if he was conscious at all. 

'I didn't think I'd see him again. Now he's with us, he didn't want to join us at all," Duro said, and Agron nodded. "Yes, he fought bravely before he was injured. By the way, the man who walked next to the stretcher is Gannicus. He and Oenomaus are said to have been friends."

"The Gannicus who once won his freedom and who was now to kill his own former brothers and his old friend..." Duro muttered. 

He didn't know what to think of the former gladiator's presence. Did he want to join them? At least he seemed to worry about Oenomaus.

"Glaber will haunt poison and bile and will certainly be mocked in Rome, now that Spartacus has once again, in a way, publicly punched him in the face," Agron said with a grin, adding: "He would almost have killed him with a spear.

Agron looked around and Duro guessed who he was looking for.

"Where is Nasir? You say he waited?" asked Agron, and Duro pointed to the steps of the stairs where Nasir stood with others. "Half the night he was waiting for you and he was worried. Naevia and I have paid him company... and I'm glad you're back."

Agron pressed the younger man again and then broke free from his brother's embrace and rushed towards Nasir and greeted him.

Duro did not hear the words spoken, but he saw the happy faces of his brother and Nasirs, while Naevia also greeted Crixus.   
This made Duro smile. Although his relationship with Crixus had not been the best, it was nice to see the couple reunite. 

But even though all those sentenced to death had been saved, it was more than obvious that, in addition to Oenomaus, Acer and Rhaskos were not doing well. 

The healer left the temple and shook her head after looking closer at the wounded. "I need a little help with the injured. Someone who can help me put on bandages and clean wounds. After all, I have to take care of several and I only have two hands."

"I will help you," said Aurelia, who pressed her son into another woman's arm, and the healer looked at her gratefully as Pietros, who left the temple, also went to her. "I'll help you too. I have sometimes helped the Medicus in The Ludus a little bit..."

Duro saw that Chadara stepped on the stretcher of the injured Rhasko and spoke to him briefly. Apparently she was surprised and relieved to see him alive again. Apparently, she hadn't had too much hope about this. Nasir had told him and Naevia that Chadara hadn't been too worried about Rhaskos. But perhaps she had only wanted to protect herself in this way, because now she gently stroked his cheek and he reached for her hand.

Holding his hand and walking beside the stretcher, she accompanied the men who carried him into the interior of the temple into the rooms of the healer.

So he wasn't completely indifferent to her.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a short break, this story continues. Thank you for the comments, Kudos and Bookmarks so far. I was very pleased about it and hope you continue to like the story. This time it's rather quiet. Ashur makes new plans and the rebels take care of the wounded from the arena.

One day later, Ashur had also left Capua and he was on his way to Rome. He hoped not to be completely unwelcome there, after all, like Spartacus, he was now regarded as a wanted criminal. He had used the path through the sewers. Luckily, he knew this place very well.

He had already had a few things to do there several times. First for Batiatus and also for himself. Now he would leave behind this city where he had once been a gladiator. His future took place in Rome and he would somehow make his way there. First of all, he would go to his dominay Lucretia. He hoped that she would not extradite him to Glaber, but he did not expect it, despite everything. 

Lucretia hated Glaber and his wife Ilithyia, and she certainly did not want to bring them joy by handing over their slaves to them. He also had a lot to offer her. He had not, of course, remained idle while he was in Glaber's vicinity. He hadn't figured out much, but maybe one or the other was there that Lucretia would be interested.

After Ashur left the city, he looked around again. He wouldn't miss this city very much, but he had spent an important part of his life there. He had made many enemies and basically found only one friend, Matay...

He brushed aside the thoughts on others he had once called "friend" and those who had trusted him.

Chadara sat next to the sleeping Rhaskos and she wondered about herself. She didn't expect to see him again. After all, the prospects that Spartacus's plan succeeded had been anything but good. But now Rhaskos had returned to her and the healer said he would recover from his injuries.   
Chadara was delighted with the good news and she reached for Rhasko's hand as he blinked and turned her head in her direction. She pressed his hand and he answered her handshake and gave her a small smile. He seemed to rejoice in their presence.

"The healer says you'll be better off soon," she said, and he closed his eyes tiredly. Apparently he needed a little rest.

She turned around and saw Pietros standing behind her. He held a mug in his hand. "Give him that. The healer said it would be good for him," said the young man, who made a tired impression.   
She nodded and Pietros turned away to look for Acer, who was lying next to Rhaskos. He was in a far worse state than his gladiator brother. His shoulder was connected and he lay motionless, but was still breathing.

Pietros noticed that the man had a fever and placed a damp cloth on the forehead of the injured man. He hoped that the healer would soon have time for Acer. But in the meantime, the woman took care of Oenomaus and barely let him out of sight. 

After caring for the wounds of Rhaskos and Acer, she had left the lighter wounds of the others who had returned from the arena to Aurelia and Pietros.

Pietros knew that Naevia would have gone to the healer's hand in other circumstances, but he understood that after the last nights she had a wake-up call, she urgently needed rest and also needed some time with Cixus.

She would probably reappear in the healer's rooms at a later date to support the woman. Pietros turned to Aurelia and pointed to Acer. "Do you think he will survive? I'm worried about him.'

Aurelia looked over to Acer in doubt. 'I don't know. Such a fracture is not harmless and even if it survives it can happen that he can no longer use his shoulder and arm properly."  
She smiled sadly. "One of my uncles did it like that. He wanted to repair the roof of his house and fell in the process. He was never able to use his arm again and suffered a lot from it."

Pietros hoped that Acer's healing would be better. For a former gladiator, a permanent injury to his arm would certainly be horrendous. After all, Duro also suffered from not being able to train yet, and Acer would certainly be no different, especially if this condition was permanent.

Aurelia wiped her hand over her forehead before turning to one of the other injured gladiators who had accompanied Spartacus into the arena. He had suffered minor burn injuries and Aurelia began treating them with an ointment. She proceeded very carefully and Pietros wondered how the same gentle woman who cared so caringly for the injured had been able to kill Numerius. He had learned this, like so much, from Letitia.

Of course, as in the batiatus house, the cook knew about everything that was going on in the rebel camp.

Apparently Aurelia had taken revenge for the death of her husband on this Roman boy, Numerius. Still, she still seemed to blame Spartacus. After all, he had been the one appointed by Numerius to kill Varro after the lost battle.

Pietros and many others knew that this incident had also hit Spartacus very hard, and that no one, except Aurelia, wished to do it any more than he did. Pietros hoped that Aurelia and Spartacus would one day make peace with each other. Apparently he had seen her kill Numerius, in revenge for Varro.

And now Aurelia behaved so gently towards one of the injured and she also made herself useful everywhere with the rebels....

"Pietros, is everything okay? You look so thoughtful," Aurelia inquired, and he shrugged. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that he had just thought about the death of Numerius and Aurelia's role in it. Surely this spoiled Roman boy was the last thing she wanted to talk about or think about at the moment.

She smiled. "We're done now. The wounds are treated. Acer, Rhaskos and Oenomaus need above all rest. Go to Letitia and get your dinner."

Pietros joined Letitia shortly afterwards, who had converted a half-decayed room into a kind of makeshift kitchen. Some of the men had helped her. A few boilers stood around and there was a fire pit over which hung a pot. Alsuna and Ania sat in a corner and were cutting vegetables small.  
"You definitely want to get dinner for you and probably also for Duro, don't you?" asked Letitia, and she handed Pietro's two pieces of bread. "I managed to bake fresh bread. With an ancient oven. But it worked."

Pietros thanked Letitia and rushed to Duro, who, as expected, sat next to the training ground and watched the training house slaves.   
Pietros sat down next to his friend and handed him a piece of bread. "Here, it's still fresh. From Letitia."  
"Thank you," Duro said, stuffing a bite into his mouth as he pointed at one of the house slaves. "You're better than him..."

He spoke softly, after all, he did not want to discourage the man who trained so diligently.

"It's very warm today," Pietros said, and Duro handed him a bottle of water that stood next to him. Pietros gratefully accepted them.

Duro, too, had struggled with the heat that day and he hadn't found it the worst solution to be able to stop training that day. Instead, he and others had explored the surrounding area.

"There is a lake nearby. It is quite small, but it is enough for a cooling bath. I wanted to go afterwards and take a bath. Are you accompanying me?" he suggested, and Pietros nodded. The prospect of cooling off was tempting.

A little later Pietros and Duro put off their clothes on the shore and ventured into the cool water. It was pleasant to end the day in this way and Duro swam to the middle of the small lake. He could no longer stand there while Pietros was near the shore.  
'I can't swim. Where should I have learned it?" he said, and Duro swam toward the other. "I can show you. It's not really hard. Should I?"

Pietros nodded. He really wanted to learn to swim and now he had the opportunity to do so. "But don't subdue me, because then I'll kick you!" he threatened with a laugh, and Duro showed him a few swims shortly afterwards.

Eventually they sat on the lake shore and let themselves be dried by the sun. Duro was glad to have discovered this lake. There had also been a similar lake at home. There he often swam with his brother and the other children of the village. His healing injury did not cause him any problems while swimming. Duro was sure that Pietros would soon learn to swim, and he expected that others would soon use this lake as a cooling down.

**It's hot today. First day in August. At least my charas get a little cooling.**


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here, too, after a break, there is now the next chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading.

**Temple on Mount Vesuvius**

Nasir lay next to Agron, and he gently stroked over his arm. Agron had separated his own small area in the temple, where he and Nasir had made themselves comfortable. They both wore no clothes and had given up a blanket due to the warm weather.   
Sleepy, Agron played with one of Nasir's hair strands and the young Syrian smiled happily. Unfortunately, they were not able to exchange further tenderness, but Nasir's injury still caused too many difficulties.  
But it was also nice to just lie next to his lover and exchange kisses. But Nasir was also tired and he closed his eyes and thought to himself that he had not felt as comfortable as in that moment.

He remembered that not too long ago he had been terrified of the rebels entering the villa of his Dominus. How much his life had changed since then. He had to admit that, although he now led a more dangerous life, he was happier than before, and this was mainly due to the gladiator lying next to him.

Agron, too, was satisfied at that moment, as it had not been for a long time. The two people closest to him had largely recovered from their injuries. His brother, believed dead, had come back to him, and the young man for whom he had such strong feelings lay next to him in his arm and reciprocated his feelings.

They had found a quiet place in relative safety with this temple. But he feared that it would not remain as peaceful as it is at the moment. Glaber was still looking for them and he would not rest until he found them and especially Spartacus.

**Capua**

Ilithyia preferred to avoid her husband these days. She felt uncomfortable in his presence and he left no doubt that he was still upset about her. But was it their fault that he had not been able to prevent the fire in the arena? He could have killed the prisoners in a different way. Why hadn't he just had them crucified next to the mines after he captured them? He did so at the moment in Capua with slaves who dared to put the name Spartacus in their mouths, and even some Romans went too far.

While the inhabitants of Capua were terrified by the fire at the arena, Varinius had managed to show his good side. He had sent doctors to look after the wounded and to help relatives bury the dead appropriately.  
Varinius had visited the injured and this grisly Seppia had accompanied him. Then the news of the engagement of the two had arrived and Ilithyia would have preferred to throw one of Lucretia's vases against the wall in anger. 

She had hoped for Varinius herself. For him, she would have left her husband. But that hope had now been finally dashed.  
"This beast prevailed," she cursed softly, even more cursing at the fact that she felt almost like a prisoner in Lucretia's house, which was so lonely.

**Temple on Mount Vesuvius**

Chadara aimed an arrow at a tree, but most of her bullets still fell out of her hand before she could shoot her. Learning archery proved very difficult and she wondered if she would ever learn it.

Only four times had she managed to shoot an arrow, even if she was still far from hitting a target. Fortunately, Iras had a lot of patience and encouraged her again and again. But now she had something else on her heart, that she wanted to discuss with her friend, because Iras gradually became such a one. 

She looked sighing at Duro and Pietros, who also trained nearby. Again, both she and Iras and the two young men took advantage of the early hours of the morning, even before others joined. Once again, the young gladiator explained some things about swordfighting to the other and showed him one or the other.

"Duro will be glad that he can at least do that again," Iras said, adding, "I don't know how to fight for the sword, but I don't think Pietros is doing badly."  
Chadara sighed. "Not as bad as I did in archery...."  
"But you're somewhere else with your thoughts," Iras said, and Chadara nodded. "Yes, at Rhaskos. He should be a bit careful, but he is much better off. And I... likes him. But...  
Iras laughed. 'That's a good thing. Be happy if you have feelings for those who are something like your husband or companion. That's how it should be.'  
However, Chadara insecurely lowered his gaze." But I've never experienced anything like this before and I'm scared...."  
"That you get hurt?" asked Iras, giving the other a sad smile" "I think this fear has every one of us when she falls in love and sometimes it comes to it. But I don't think you have to worry about Rhaskos...."  
"And what about you?" asked Chadara, but Iras lowered his gaze. "I was in love. But it was only temporary."  
Chadara wanted to reciprocate, but then Rhaskos entered the practice field and Iras gave her a little pusher. "Go to him and show him what you can do with the bow. He will certainly be interested..."

Duro and Pietros saw Rhaskos, who was still wearing bandages in some places, and Chadara left the practice field.  
'He seems to be recovering pretty well. Unfortunately for Acer, it doesn't look so favorable. He cannot raise his arm, nor should he, according to the healer's instructions. But, of course, he's still trying. The healer was already excited about this," Pietros said.  
"Poor Acer," Duro muttered. 'It hit him really badly. But perhaps his injury will heal with time. For me, it's going to be a bit of a good thing. At least he will survive. Still, it's bitter for him.'

"It's still better than if he had died in the arena or hadn't survived his captivity for other reasons," Pietros replied. 'And maybe he'll find another job. Not all of us are warriors who can fight. Look at Letitia. Or the healer. Nor are they useless."  
"They make a meaningful contribution. But if Acer's arm is no longer usable, then he will probably find it difficult to help Letitia," Duro said.

He raised his wooden sword and pointed to Pietros. "We should continue our training. I'll attack you and you're trying to fend off the attack.'  
Pietros nodded and they continued their training, even though Pietros was aware that he still had a lot to learn. 

After all, Duro got a little training in this way and both had some of it. A practice match with one of the other gladiators would probably have been too much for Duro.  
Pietros wondered what Oenomaus, whose condition had improved according to the healer, would do after his recovery. Would he join them and even take over the training?

"Are we going to the lake tonight?" he asked, and Duro nodded. 

They had finished the past days with a refreshing dip, even though they had to share the lake with others. Others had also discovered this place and used it extensively for body cleansing or refreshment on the warm evenings.

**Rom**

Matay was on his evening tour of Lucretia's house. He had checked the doors and entered the garden. A hot day came to an end in Rome and he enjoyed the fresh air. His dominamy had already gone to bed and the other slaves probably slept.

He, too, would soon go to rest, but his sleep was easy and he was sure that he would discover a possible intruder in time. That's how it was now. He saw a movement behind a tree, in front of which stood a statue representing the deceased Titus. Lucretia did not like this statue, but once mentioned that she felt that she was being looked at reproachfully. Apparently there had been disagreements between her and her late father-in-law.   
In the next few days, this statue would be removed from the garden and placed elsewhere, in the basement of the house. She would probably be dusted and forgotten there.

With a few steps Matay reached the statue and pulled out his short sword before pulling out a man from the bushes behind the statue. But he immediately let go of the intruder when he realized who it was.

"Ashur?" asked Matay, and he caught the other Syrian just in time when he threatened to collapse.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's the next chapter. Pietros has to deal with Menes, who is becoming more and more of a problem for him. Will he be able to solve this problem on his own?

**Rome**

Matay accompanied Ashur to the house and helped him sit on a chair in the entrance. The other Syrian was pale and there was a burn to his arm. There were also some bruises on his body, but they had already faded.  
Matay asked Ashur to wait and rushed to the kitchen. With a cup of water and a piece of bread, he finally returned to Ashur.

He gave the other man the bread that he greedily devoured. He then rinsed the food down with the water.  
"Thank you," he said. "I made quite good progress at first, but I had to watch that I get out of the way of Roman soldiers. I don't know to what extent I'm looking for me.'

Matay looked at the other anxious. "Why are people looking for you? And what about this great fire in the arena of Capua? There are only a few rumours so far. More has not yet penetrated us."  
"That will certainly change soon. Spartacus was responsible for the fire. And I was one of those sentenced to death. This cursed Glaber wanted to get rid of me. His wife in particular seemed to care very much," Ashur replied angrily.

Matay thought of Glaber's sneaky wife and he could understand Ashur's anger at her very well. After all, because of this woman, the innocent cook had become over the cliffs, a young slave had died of poison and she had already tried twice to murder his domina.

"Tell me everything that happened," Matay asked, and Ashur recounted what he thought was important and what he thought Matay should know.

He did not mention that there was someone among Spartacus people named "Nasir". On the one hand, he wanted to keep this revelation for a later, more useful moment, and on the other hand, there was also the prospect that Nasir had died in Naevia's liberation.   
The soldiers had been able to kill some of the rebels. Perhaps this Nasir had been among them. In addition, the name could just as well be a coincidence. Perhaps it wasn't Matay's missing younger brother.

Instead, Ashur spoke of his cunning, with which he eventually escaped from the arena. Even a Medicus had taken care of the violation of the supposed Roman citizen Antonius. Nevertheless, the trip to Rome, which was more like an escape, had been very exhausting for Ashur.  
He also did not know whether Lucretia would welcome him as kindly as Matay had done. He grabbed his uninjured arm.  
"Come with me to my accommodation. Rest there. First of all, you're safe there, no one goes in there. But soon we have to talk to the dominai. She needs to know you're here. After all, it could get her way by giving you refuge."

Ashur followed Matay into the room he lived in and was glad to find a safe shelter, at least for that night.

**Temple on Mount Vesuvius**

Pietros and Duro had finished their morning training when Agron and a few others set off for an enquiry mission to Neapolis. Apparently, the arrival of some slave ships was expected there in the not too distant future.

Duro had expected a little too much at training and Pietros had insisted that he then take some rest. Because he had managed to give Duro a blow during training, so that he went to the ground. Duro did not take this badly, but seemed to rejoice at the progress of the other. Unfortunately, he felt a slight tweak on his wound and Pietros had apologized many times.   
"I'm fine, Pietros. Nothing happened," Duro said, but Pietros accompanied the other inside the temple for security reasons.  
"You don't need to sit next to me all day." I get along. If it calms you down, I go to the healer afterwards. Around this time she is still busy with Acer and Oenomaus. I'll go later.'

Reluctantly, Pietros Duro left. It was already hot that morning, so he decided to take a dip in the lake, but when he got there he decided to give up.

Because Menes just undressed on the shore and apparently wanted to take a bath as well. Apart from the bodyguard, no one could be seen far and wide. He didn't want to be alone with Menes, and certainly he didn't want to swim in the lake at the same time as the former bodyguard. So he returned to the temple and was angry with himself.

In fact, he should have been bolder and should not have been driven away by the mere sight of the other. But what else could he have done other than avoid Menes? He did not trust this man, even if he had not troubled him in recent times. In the event of a possible attack by the bodyguard, Pietros would not have been up to him. 

Eventually he reached the temple and decided to train a little more. He had been trying archery for a long time, much like Chadara.  
Unfortunately, he did not know how to use this weapon, but he had often watched Chadara being taught by Iras. As expected, shooting with a bow and arrow looked easier than it actually was, but Pietros proved to be more patient than Chadara. This had thrown her bow several times on the ground at the beginning, which had been acknowledged by Iras with a mild smile.  
Eventually he heard a laugh behind him and he turned around. Mira stood behind him and also held a bow in his hand. "Should I explain it to you again?" she asked, and he gratefully agreed.

"Maybe, in addition to swordfighting, you should also learn archery. It worked quite well for a beginner," Mira said after a while of practice with each other. Her initial cheerfulness had now disappeared. Something seemed to depress her.  
Still, she smiled at him. "Try it again. You will succeed soon."  
Pietros knew that she only wanted to encourage him, because he had not been able to shoot even a single arrow. But he still wanted to keep trying.

Mira walked away with her bow and Pietros made her way to Letitia to help her prepare dinner. But he did not reach his goal, because someone represented him the way. Menes.  
"Pietros, why didn't you come to me in the water? Did you think I wouldn't notice you?" he asked, brushing over the other's upper arm.

Pietros shook off his arm and backed away. He hurried to walk past Menes and he laughed. "You're really a little coward."  
Shaking his head, Menes walked away and Pietros stood silently next to Letitia in the kitchen shortly afterwards. "What's going on with you?" she asked, but Pietros shook his head. "Nothing. I... I'm just a bit tired from training...."  
He did not want to talk about the incident. Why didn't he do better against Menes? Of course, he wouldn't have won a fight against the man if it had happened. Nevertheless....

"Is everything really okay with you?" Letitia asked again, and Pietros forced himself to smile. Why would he worry the cook? She would just be worried. "Everything is fine," he replied, and she made doubt about the preparation of the dinner.

But this should not be the last encounter with Menes. Because when Pietros wanted to go to his sleeping place in the evening, he was unexpectedly pushed against the wall. He knew such situations, had already experienced them with Gnaeus. Unfortunately, no one could be seen far and wide, many of the others were already asleep, others spoke to Spartacus, who listened to the account of Agron, who had returned from Neapolis. 

"You run away from me. But don't think I forgot you," Menes said, reaching for Pietro's neck and pulling him. Then he wanted to put a kiss on his lips.  
But now Pietros awoke from his solidification. He didn't know where he had taken the courage from afterwards, but he clenched a fist and punched these menes in the face.

The bodyguard staggered back and let go of Pietros. He pushed past him and no longer saw the angry gaze that Menes threw at him.

Pietros quietly entered the room he shared with other rebels, but as he walked to his sleeping place next to Duro, he saw that Agron was sitting next to his brother. Both had leaned against the wall and chatted. Apparently the conversation with Spartacus was already over.  
When Pietros sat down on his sleeping place, Duro turned to him. "Is everything okay?"

Pietros shrugged. Of course, the incident with Menes had unsettled him, but at the same time he was a little proud of himself. He had managed to free himself from this situation.   
However, he knew what would happen if he told Duro about the incident. Probably Duro would get up immediately and go in search of Menes, followed by Agron. They would probably deal with Menes....

But he didn't want a fight to happen because of him. However, he feared that it might also be a mistake not to tell anything about the incident.  
'It's all right. I trained archery with Mira..."  
"That's a good idea," Duro said, addressing Agron. "And you wanted to free the slaves who brought them by ship to Neapolis?"

Agron nodded. "Yes, we will free them. We hope there are good fighters...."

Eventually, Agron turned to Pietros. "And you managed to knock down my brother in the fight?"  
"It wasn't intentional... I didn't want to hurt him," Pietros muttered as Duro tried to calm him down. 'Nothing has happened. I was with the healer. I should give up training tomorrow. That's all."

Eventually, Agron rose and left the room to meet Nasir in his own sleeping area.  
"Pietros, tell me what happened," Duro asked. "Something has happened..."

"I..." began Pietros as Menes entered the room. 

"What does he want here?" asked Duro, and Pietros reached for his arm to prevent him from getting up to get up with the former bodyguard.   
The man stopped in front of Pietros and looked down at him. He held a wet rag in his face and tried to cool his cheek.

  
"Pietros, I have to apologize to you. From now on I will get out of your way. You have nothing to fear from me..." he said, turning around and leaving the room, while Pietros and Duro stared at him inquiringly.  
"Pietros, as it stands, I am not the only one you have knocked down today. But what did he do? Did he somehow threaten you?" duro asked, and Pietros finally gave in and struggled to tell the truth.

"Yes, he has. But I punched him in the face and maybe he'll actually leave me alone now..."

Duro had his doubts about whether Menes' apology was sincere.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading. Pietros will be able to use his newly learned, still fresh combat skills in this and the next chapter.

** Temple on Mount Vesuvius **

Duro did not trust Menes, so he visited him early the next morning. The bodyguard was not particularly pleased when Duro woke him up unscathed.  
"What do you want?" he asked, in a bad mood, but shrugged as Duro pushed him against the wall.  
"What do I want from you? I want you to stay away from Pietros and others. I am not the first to tell you this. But I will be the first to bleed you if you do not keep to the promise you made last night!"

"I will keep my promise. You can let me go. I leave him alone," Menes promised, and Duro eventually reluctantly let the other. "I'll keep an eye on you," he said, before leaving the room as the others who also slept there began to move. 

As Duro left the room, Menes stared furiously at him. Gradually, this gladiator became annoying. Why had this Roman not used his sword better in The Ludus when he stabbed Duro with it? Then he, Menes, would have got rid of him and he would not have stood in his way when it came to Pietros. Moreover, he would have been spared this humiliating struggle when he had fallen into the same puddle several times.

The bodyguard reached for a knife lying next to him. He was quite good at throwing knives and mostly hit his target. He briefly thought of following Duro and aiming his knife at the other's back and then throwing it. But he quickly rejected that idea. Probably the other inhabitants of the rebel camp would kill him on the spot. 

He did not dare to think of what Duro's gladiator brothers, and especially his biological brother Agron, would do with him....

**Rome**

Lucretia was far from pleased when she learned that Ashur had almost been executed in the arena and was now looking for her to be a fugitive. Matay had informed her of Ashur's presence. Now we had to think about what to do.

At least she wanted to listen to what Ashur had to say. She thought of the arena with regret. Her late husband had loved it when his gladiators had won there, and now it had become a robbery of the flames. The only consolation was that Glaber had failed so terribly. He was responsible for this disaster, and she could already well imagine how the senators, especially Glaber's father-in-law, would react.

Now Ashur, together with Matay, faced her. The burn on the Syrian's arm was not to be overlooked, but apparently he was on the road to recovery. Nevertheless, she did not bother to offer him or Matay a seat, as she would have done with any Roman.  
But the two were their slaves, and Matay had given Ashur shelter without her knowledge. The two could be glad that she did not punish them even more.

Nevertheless, she had to admit to Ashur that, although he probably did not like the comparison, he was no different from his gladiator brothers in one respect. He was very adept at staying alive, even if everything spoke against it. Not even an arena that collapsed above him could have killed him.  
"You get refuge in this house. But I expect something from you. Loyalty and you will tell me everything that happened in my absence in my house. All. Especially the things that affect Glaber and Ilithyia. But of course you won't show yourself in public..."

Ashur agreed with everything Lucretia asked of him. He didn't have too many other options at the moment and she was aware of that. Eventually, she inquired about Cirxus. "And you say that he escaped? Did Glaber let him escape? This failure had him in his power and couldn't stop him from fleeing?" she asked. 

Ashur nodded and Lucretia turned away. "Well, get something to eat in the kitchen. And you're going to share Matay's room from now on..."

So Crixus had also survived the planned execution in the arena. And it was possible to free Naevia from the mines. Crixus and Naevia. The two had deceived her and no punishment, which they had suffered since then, could comfort them.

'He got Naevia back after he wanted to kill me and my child. Our child," she thought angrily. "And I have to live on without Quintus. That is not fair!"

**Near the temple on Mount Vesuvius**

That afternoon Pietros had offered to get some berries from the forest for Letitia. She needed it for a meal, which she wanted to prepare the next day. Duro, Naevia and Letitia's assistants Ania and Miria accompanied him.   
They wanted to stay near the temple, but did not actually assume that this little order of the cook could become dangerous.

Eventually, they did not go into battle, but only picked a few berries, and they were happy to leave the grounds of the temple for a short time. Danger certainly did not threaten...

However, they should be wrong. 

"Is it true that this mountain sometimes spits fire?" Miria asked, tucing a berry into the waistband and the others in her little basket, which she was carrying.  
"That's how it's told," Pietros replied. 'But it's supposed to have been a long time since it last happened. Hopefully it never happens again. I imagine it to be scary."

While Pietros and Ania also picked some of the sought-after berries from the bush, Naevia suddenly drew the sword that she had always carried with her for a few days. She couldn't fight with it yet, but she seemed to feel safer with it when she carried it with her. Duro and Miria also drew their weapons, and Ania cast an anxious glance at Naevia.

"What's going on?" whispered Pietros as he heard the steps approaching the small group. 

Then six Roman soldiers broke out between the trees. One of the men yelled at the armed former slaves. "Throw away your weapons! It is not your sway to use them!"  
"Romans," Naevia cursed, and, like Duro and Miria, made no attempt to lay down their weapons. On the contrary. They would defend themselves. None of these men would come close to her!  
Miria, meanwhile, reached for Ania's hand and pushed her behind her. "Run away. Get help," she asked the other girl, and Duro agreed. "Get help."

He took a look at Pietros. He, too, would have preferred to see him safe, especially since he was unarmed, but he apparently did not want to join Ania, who was rushing away. Instead, he bent down and picked up a thick branch. He couldn't do too much against the roman weapons, but at least he had something to defend himself with.

"Follow the girl," one of the soldiers asked one of his comrades, and he actually made arrangements to rush after Ania, but Duro represented him and pushed him to the ground.  
"You will regret that? Who are you? Do you belong to Spartacus?" asked the man, who apparently gave the orders in this small group of soldiers.   
They stormed towards Duro, Pietros and the two women, and one of them rushed to Naevia, who awkwardly slammed her sword, while Duro came to her aid and drilled his sword into the assailant's chest.

The soldier's sword fell out of his hand and Pietros rushed to pick it up, but one of the soldiers wanted to kick it out of his hand. Pietros quickly pulled away his hand and sword, and he managed to throw himself to the side, while Naevia's sword drilled into the soldier's belly. 

However, four soldiers were still over and one of them managed to overpower Miria quite quickly and take away her weapon. The young Nubier in an angry curse as the soldier punched her in the face.  
Duro was involved in a fight with one of the other soldiers, and Navia also tried to keep one of the men off his body. He laughed when he noticed her awkward attempts.

The fourth soldier reached for Pietros, but he managed to inflict a cut on the man's forearm with his sword. The soldier let him go, and Pietros wanted to smite the soldier who knelt over Miria. But he hesitated for a moment too long, and the man let go of Miria, but instead quickly got up and slammed the sword at Pietros. He dodged, but the attacker's weapon cut him across his ribs. However, when the soldier struck again with his sword, Pietros managed to intercept the blow with his own sword, while Miria again reached for her own weapon and thrust it into the soldier's thigh.  
Pietros took advantage of the man's distraction and thrust his sword into his chest. The injured soldier collapsed dead.

Spartacus discussed with Agron, Crixus, and some others who would participate in the mission the planned liberation of the slave ships in Neapolis. In a few days it should be ready. They had retreated into the shadows during the deliberations when Chadara, followed by the excited Ania, rushed towards them.

"What happened?" asked Crixus, who knew that girls had been travelling with Naevia and others. "Where is Naevia?"  
"Romans," Ania wailed out of breath. "Four Roman soldiers attacked us. The others said I should get help..."  
"Where? Where are they?" agron asked excitedly as Spartacus pulled the girl aside to listen to her account.

"So close did they come to the temple?" asked Spartacus, worried, after learning of Ania where exactly the attack had taken place. He hoped that these were only a few soldiers who had happened to be too far away from their comrades. 

Nevertheless, it was important to rush to Duro, Pietros, Naevia and Miria's aid. Crixus and Agron seemed to see it the same way, because when Spartacus, followed by Donar and others, set out, the Gaul and the Germane had already hurried ahead.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading.

Agron and Crixus did not pay attention to the men who followed them. They wanted to find the place where Agroon's brother and Crixi's companion were probably in great danger as soon as possible.   
Eventually, they thought they heard a quiet scream and, with their swords pulled, stormed in the direction, while their companions struggled to follow them. 

They reached the wanted and found that all four were still alive. Instead, four soldiers lay dead on the ground. Another man stood leaning against a tree and Duro held a sword to his throat, but the soldier kept the gladiator at bay in the same way.   
Agron hardly dared to move. Who would stab first? He had to find a way to help his brother out of this dangerous situation.

It looked better for Miria and Naevia, who sat on another soldier and also threatened him with their weapons.  
Only Pietro's clothes were bloody. Apparently he had suffered a wound, but he stood behind Duro with a sword in his hand, but dared not move any more than Agron, while the soldier's gaze wandered wildly back and forth.

Spartacus and his companions had also caught up with Agron and Crixus. But they, too, stopped while the soldier's face turned into a grimace. His hand trembled and he seemed to understand that he was in a hopeless position. He made arrangements to free himself from his situation in one last desperate act. However, then Duro reacted and he slammed his sword. The soldier collapsed while Crixus Naevia pulled away from the soldier lying on the ground and in turn set one of the man's feet. Miria also rose when Spartacus grabbed her arm.

Relieved, Agron went to his brother. Fortunately, Duro's body had no injuries." As I see, you have you have defeated him with them yourself. We were worried when Ania returned to us and reported that you were not even safe from Romans here near the temple."

Spartacus, meanwhile, had asked the man lying on the ground to sit down and began questioning him. He wanted to know if the rebels were being targeted in this area. But apparently the Romans were a group of deserters who had rather accidentally made it close to the temple.  
Spartacus was relieved and even briefly thought about keeping the man alive. Maybe he might have been useful in some way, but then he made a mistake.

He pulled out a knife and wanted to throw it at Spartacus, but he reacted more quickly and thrust his sword into his heart.

Pietros turned away. The situation frightened him. He himself had killed a man and even though there had been no other option for him in the situation, it was not a good feeling. He suspected that he would never get used to such things.

Duro seemed to suspect what was going on in him, and he pulled him aside a bit. "You're hurt," he finally said, looking at Pietro's side anxiously and looking at the other inquiringly.  
"May I look at this?"  
Pietros nodded in silence and pushed his clothes aside. A cut went out over Pietro's ribs and some blood.  
Still, Duro seemed visibly relieved. 'It's not deep. We should still go straight to the healer...."

Pietros looked at the soldier lying dead on the ground. The soldier he killed. "I had to do it."  
Duro nodded and put an arm around Pietro's shoulders. "I know. He would have killed Miria. You saved them. It would be worse if she were dead instead."

Pietros, of course, had to agree to this. He was glad that Miria was still alive and dared not imagine how Letitia would have reacted to the news of the death of one of her girls. He felt a hint of pride, even if the sight of the dead soldier caused him nausea. He had defended himself. No one had to come to his aid. Instead, he managed to help someone else.

Not long after, Pietros sat opposite the healer, who looked closely at his wound. "That's really just a pretty superficial cut. Still, I'll clean it. It's best to lie down," the old woman said.  
Pietros reluctantly followed the healer's instructions, and he shrugged as the woman began to cleanse the wound.  
She shook her head. 'It's not that bad. I've seen really worse things lately."

Then she looked at Duro and snorted a little mockingly. "Do you think he won't survive this without your help? That's not much more than a scratch."  
"I'm still here," Duro replied succinctly, and Pietros was glad he wasn't alone after the fight. For it was not the wound that weighed on him too much, but the memory of the events of the last few hours did not go out of his mind.

"You'll soon be better off. But you had no choice," Duro said softly. He seemed to suspect what was going on in Pietros, and the healer also tried to be a little gentler when cleaning the wound.  
"I'm still connecting that. And then you will do what many of you don't like to do. Especially he..."  
She looked at Duro, who answered her gaze innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rest and spare!" said the healer. "And maybe it's good if you have a little company."  
"I'll stay with him," Duro promised, and the woman nodded approvingly. "Good. And excuse me for being so unkind earlier. But I've seen worried friends and family members get involved in my treatments lately. This Chadara is particularly bad. Her Rhaskos is already doing quite well. But she knows everything better, but she has no idea at all...."

Pietros smiled at the presentation of Chadara, who taught the healer suggestions for improvement, and Duro saw it with relief.

Nasir admitted that he had misjudged Chadara. Of course, she herself had done her part when she said that she only stayed on Rhaskos' side to secure his protection.  
But that seemed to have changed. The view with which she looked at the gladiator, who had now recovered quite well from his injuries, had become different. She seemed to feel really comfortable in his presence and, conversely, it was obviously the same.

Nasir allowed his girlfriend to find a man for whom she could muster feelings, and he also gave her her closer friendship with Iras. He sometimes wondered what would have happened to her if Rhaskos had not returned from the arena and if Iras had not begun teaching her in archery. 

But now she was very upset and first Nasir and then Rhasko had trouble to calm her down. They were frightened that the Romans had come so close to the temple, even though it was apparently just a scattered group of deserters. 

Nevertheless, Spartacus had used the incident as an opportunity to reinforce the guards and several men had searched the area for more Romans during the afternoon. Apparently, the claim of the now dead soldiers who had been buried in the forest was true.

By now it had been evening and Nasir smiled at Agron as he entered their common room. The other man answered the smile and he sat next to him on their shared bed.  
"Are you with Duro again?" asked Nasir, and Agron nodded with a sigh. "Yes. And it wasn't just me who was there. Pietros was also with him, of course, and then came Miria and Letitia. Letitia is overjoyed that nothing has happened to Miria and Pietros, and she has thanked Pietros many times for preventing these soldiers from killing her."

"Pietros takes it hard, doesn't he?" asked Nasir, but Agron shrugged. 'He's not a warrior. But Duro says he's bravely beaten.'

"I understand him," Nasir muttered, leaning on Agron. "But you were worried about Duro, didn't you?"

"Yes," Agron replied. "Me and Crixus already had the worst ideas when we rushed to his and Naevia's aid. We thought they were dead or the Romans had dragged all or some of them away as prisoners. I don't even know what would be worse and I dare not think of what Glaber would do to them. But by the time we arrived, they had already overwhelmed the Romans. Still, Duro was still in danger. It was good that he reacted first, even before the soldier could push the sword in his neck... nevertheless..."

"He gets along well. You can't protect it everywhere. And not me either," Said Nasir, and Agron cast a gloomy glance at him. "Unfortunately not. But I want it. And I will still do my best."

Nasir did not respond. He knew they would always be in danger. Duro, Naevia, Pietros and Miria were also not drawn into the fight, but they only wanted to get some ingredients for Letitia. Nevertheless, they had been attacked by the soldiers, and so it would probably happen every time they met their enemies.  
There was no real security for any of them, and Nasir knew that Agron was all too aware of it. He could not protect his lover, brother or one of his friends at any time. None of them could do this and no one knew what end they would all find.

Nevertheless, Nasir would not have wanted to return to his old life in the villa of his Dominus. He had found something he never believed would be possible for a slave like him. 

For the Romans, he, Agron, Duro, Pietros, Spartacus and the others were still nothing but slaves, possessions, who had dared to run away and defend themselves. But he and many of the others knew they were more than that. 

Of course, their enemies saw it differently. According to their laws, they were in the right and they would do anything to get their slaves back. Either to punish them for their escape and for what they had done since then, or to force them again to spend their lives in slavery.

But Nasir and the others had decided to fight back, and they would fight to prevent it from coming. He did not want to give up his new life and especially his life with Agron, although this meant that this life might be shorter than it would have been in the villa of his Dominus.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue with a new chapter. I wish you a lot of fun reading.

**Temple near Mount Vesuvius**

Duro and Pietros interrupted their training when they saw Oenemoaus approaching. The former gladiatorial coach has not yet fully recovered from his injuries, but the healer has since allowed him to move freely in the rebel camp.   
One of the first ways led him to the trainees and he shook his head. Apparently, he came to the conclusion that there was a lot of work ahead of him if he decided to take on the job. Duro assumed that Oenomaus would find a lot, especially with him, it was necessary to improve.

Pietros knew that Oenomaus old friend Gannicus had spent some time at Oenomau´s bedside, but the two seemed to be divided. Pietros did not know the reason for this, but he knew that Letitia could certainly tell him something about it. Even in the rebel camp, she was always well informed. Gannicus, on the other hand, seemed to attract the attention of the young women of the rebel camp. Some glances followed him as he passed by. 

Nevertheless, the dispute with Oenomaus seemed to depress him.

Oenomaus stopped in front of Pietros. "You train? Spartacus mentioned it briefly. What I just saw wasn't bad....and Duro, you make the same mistakes as before... work on it.....as soon as you are allowed to train properly again."  
Duro grinned at how many times Oenomaus had found mistakes with him during his time in the Ludus that needed to be improved.

Shaking his head, Oenomaus looked to Crixus, who, a little away, had a practice fight with Rabanus. "He was once the champion of Capua. But i don't think he'll ever learn that, I've told him so many times... that will bring him to the grave again..."

He turned away. "There's a lot of work to be done here...."

Now Naevia also entered the training field and Crixus finished his own training with Rabanuss. Instead, he smiled kindly at Naevia and handed her a sword. Gratefully, she accepted it, and while Oenomaus retreated to the temple, the Gaul and his companion began training.  
"Go aside, we need the place," Crixus Duro and Pietros demanded, but Duro did not think of following this request.   
"There is enough space here. And there's more of it over there," Duro replied, and Crixus shrugged as Naevia pulled him by the arm. "He's right. You don't need to tell him that you're in charge," she replied, adding with a smile, "Or that you think you have it."  
"Naevia..." Crixus replied, but then he nodded in agreement. " You are right. What should I argue with Agron's brother? And now let's start...."  
Naevia hesitated for a moment. "Crixus, maybe... should you ever talk to Duro?"

The Gaul looked at his companion inquiringly. "What about?"

She sighed. "You haven't been too kind to him in the past."

"Well, I wasn't kind to Agron, Spartacus, and there are others I've had an argument with," Crixus replied, "but she shook her head." Nasir and Duro waited with me when Spartacus and the others burned down the arena and saved you. I was very restless and worried. They stood by me and made me company and they were kind to me. Duro encouraged me that you would return and that I should not worry so much. You would be a good fighter..."

"Well, I'm talking to him. At some point...but I'm angry with his brother. He apologized to me, but I can't forget that he first told me you were dead. He would never have told me you were in the mines. It's only thanks to Nasir that we're back together," Crixus said to his companion, who put one hand on his arm. 'I know you're still resentful of him. And so many were injured or killed when you saved me. You are in captivity, Acer will no longer be able to use his arm, Nasir was very badly injured....and all this because of me...."

Crixus disagreed. "I would have been looking for you all my life if it had been necessary. And I am grateful to Nasir for telling me the truth during Agron..."  
'But it's not Duro's fault what his brother did. He also had a difficult time...." Naevia interrupted him.

"I'll talk to him in time," Crixus promised, and then they started their training. 

Gradually, more gladiators and former house slaves came to the training ground and finally Duro and Pietros withdrew and finished their training.

Pietros had become quieter since the incident with the Roman soldiers, but he had decided to continue his training. Apparently he needed a little time, but Duro was worried about the other. But on that day, his mood seemed to have improved.

The sun was shining from the sky and he looked at Duro inquiringly. "We were no longer at the lake..."  
Duro was glad that the other suggested this and so they set off. Pietros looked around several times.   
"Are you worried about more Romans?" asked Duro, but Pietros shook his head. "No. But I just felt like someone was following us. I thought it was... Menes. But he has left me alone since the last incident. He also set out this morning with a few others to collect wood. I saw him lounging around on the temple stairs and Spartacus sent him into the forest with the others, he thought Menes could also make himself useful..."  
"I didn't notice anyone," Duro replied, but also looked at each other several times and eventually reached the lake, but they only met three other residents of the rebel camp, who had also cooled off in the cold lake. 

Without being disturbed, they took their bath, but decided that day not to spend as long as usual in the water. Pietros now get some swimming moves and they regretted returning to the temple early. But again, on the way back, they met only Chadara, Mira and Iras, who had set off for a hunt with the bow.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong," Pietros finally said as they reached the temple.

**Capua**

Glaber stood on the edge of the cliff and sighed inside as he heard footsteps behind him. Ilithyia. He knew that at the moment she would have preferred to push him over the edge of the cliff and thus get rid of him.

Their complaints and their dissatisfaction with their current situation had become almost unbearable, yet he mostly managed to ignore it. He wondered if she wanted to complain about something again, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to her.

Gannicus also appeared to have joined the rebels. This cursed gladiator, whom he had initially thought dead, had proved unreliable. He almost laughed bitterly. His wife probably felt sorry for this mainly because it meant the loss of a handsome man she might have liked to have had in her surroundings.

He smiled mockingly. Now Ilithyia had to make do with him, but he assumed that she had not got involved with a gladiator. She preferred men who could offer her something. Men like Varinius.

She reached for his arm. "Gaius...", she began, but he shook off her arm. He was too hurt by her behaviour and her intention to leave him and exchange for Varinius.

Only the previous day she had written a letter to her father, Senator Albinus. He had intercepted this letter and torn the letter before their eyes. She had complained about him and her marriage.  
"What do you want?" he told her. "Are you trying to achieve my goodwill again?"

He turned away and returned to the house. After a short time she followed him. "I need to talk to you!"  
He sighed. "I don't know what."  
"There was a lot," Ilithyia replied, but he waved off. This made her angry. "I'm not a stupid kid, Gaius!" she said. "And if you finally want to find and defeat Spartacus, you might have listened to the advice of this Ashur instead of execute him! Not even his body has been found, certainly his remains are burned in the arena."

Gaius cast a contemptuous glance at her. "You were the driving force when it came to execute him! Did he know any secrets about you that I shouldn't know?"

'He was an awkward person. I didn't want him near me. Besides, you yourself expressed the suspicion that he did not tell you the truth about the death of your confidant Marcus," Ilithyia defended herself and Gaius finally looked at her inquiringly.

"And what advice do you think I should have followed? Den to set up a mercenary troop?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Money. Offer a higher reward. Make known that everyone who manages to provide clues to Spartacus's hiding place is paid very well.  
"A reward? I have already been exposed to a high reward. So far, this has not been successful. I know that people are already making fun of me in Rome," he said, making a defensive gesture with his hand that he knew his wife hated when he did.

He approached them. "You, too, will not be able to see the good families of Rome at any social event unless I succeed in bringing these rebels down soon. I expect your support. But so far you have mostly fallen into my back by your stupidities. Think of Licinia! In the worst case, we draw the wrath of Grassus and also that of Licinia's friend Iulia and her family, especially that of her brother!"

Glaber looked at his wife so reproachfully that she became angry. "I had my reasons... and you shouldn't just offer money. But there is something that slaves want much more. What do you think, why do they join Spartacus? They want their freedom. Ashur once said so. But they will quickly realize that it is not real freedom. They are on the run, they have to fight and hide. But if you promise freedom and money to someone who helps you defeat this little slave rebellion, and perhaps even the fulfillment of one or the other wish, then surely someone who is willing to betray Spartacus will find himself. Not all of them will be faithful to him either, and there will be disputes among themselves...."

He looked at her thoughtfully. Perhaps their proposal was not even so bad. Wasn't everyone for sale as long as the price was right?

She smiled. "Believe me, for freedom, slaves are willing to do something. Some are even willing to kill Spartacus and bring your head."  
"He would rather be alive to me. I want to kill him or execute him," Glaber said. 

He did not want to renounce this satisfaction.


End file.
